W I N D
by yinyang80
Summary: "What did you just CALL me?" "I called you Toothless, Toothless." She calls him Toothless; he calls her a hotheaded tomboy with nothing to do but feel anger. Nonetheless, he won't admit it but he's attracted to her. Mitsui X OC Due to popular demand, rated T for cussing and potential M due to mature situations.
1. Light of the Fireflies

**SHojo S**

**Chapter 1:** Light of the Fireflies

_Cultivate your hunger, before you idealize  
Motivate your anger, to make them all realize  
Climbing the mountain, never coming down  
Break into the contents, never falling down_

-WIND, Akeboshi-

Mitsui looked forward to today. He looked for the ephemeral flowers that bloomed and passed away, to be rendered immortal forever. The poetry singers have sung today. The passing days of the sun that Phoebus rendered to shine forever and forever. The zephyr of the Kanagawa air that dragged students to their school, although some were dragged unwillingly, much to his own experience and thoughts. He remembered a time when he let Phoebus join him walk under the sun to sneak out to watch his dream unfold, only to be blown to bits and hurt him far where the sun never shone and Hades blazed.

Tomorrow was another day, he remembered that quote very well. As hat crazy old Scarlett O' Hara said. Crazy old Scarlett, he remembered his mother comment, her face twisting with the skin and wrinkle of age and happiness. Back to the happy days when he often wondered what it felt like to be under the skin of boys with cigarettes in their mouths. Only dreaming what they could not do with the power of choice to value and devalue what was common and rare. Only wishing for more. It used to fascinate him. But he'd been under that skin and it robbed him of almost everything he had had.

An actual third year class. Two years of missing classmates and lessons. All of them replaced by hazy memories. Angst. Pain and great hate for what used to be his greatest love. All in the ignorance of the high school life that jousei and shojo manga bought to the glory, he thought with a jest.

Stupid shojo manga that showed off boys too pretty to be actual men and twisted girls' hearts into thinking guys would like them for all they cared. Manga that made them into creepy fangirls who put too much hope into dreaming as a perfect girlfriend to them. To him, they were a burden and nuisance. Stupid, too. Troublesome women, he remembered someone he knew said. Someone from his old team, the manager, a young man with pretty features that passed for the bishounen of shojo manga.

"What a waste for them to invest into their looks. It's not gonna make them who they are," he had declared. "It's hard work that delivers success, not popularity. Remember this, Mitsui-senpai and you'll know; Experience is the best teacher," he had said cheerfully, grinning. For one a year or two younger than him, Mitsui was impressed. Not naïve, but this boy certainly had the air of someone he wanted to be always by his side. A true friend.

This young boy was popular with the girls; he was a strategist and he took karate. He had flashing eyes a deep shade of blue, pale skin and a thin but lean frame, as well as smart.

Just small flashes of the memories that he burned with the lighter and cigarette smoke.

He didn't need to do that anymore.

He had promised Anzai a clean start. No more beating people up. No fighting. Just something small but clean.

He might as well be back to reality; he had to admit, he regretted not bothering to find out the boy who had told him not to give up at all. The taste of regret filled his mouth with the mirth of a must and must not in the midst of the taste of bitterness, pain and the silence of hope as well as the last goodbyes he had done. Two years.

_Shalala, hummed the boy as he viewed the majestic light of the fireflies and stars in the darkness._

"_Whatcha singing?" The song sounded hopeful. Mitsui looked at him closer. "Why?"_

"_Shalala, I know I'll have it someday_

_Light in my ephemeral heart, _

_Bloom fully_."

_He smiled serenely. "There's nothing wrong. It feels good."_

Mitsui rubbed his head. Memories. He just couldn't tear his head away from them. All in the shining light of the night he remembered and the daylight of Kanagawa that shone with the hope of a thousand splendid suns and flying fireflies. Damn. He gritted his teeth.

The short hair, the scar on his chin and the neat appearance he projected. Surely, no one would bother him now. Stronger.

Expectantly, he shifted in his loose school coat, buttoning it up. He had been so used to what was left of him being dragged practically not taking a bath. It was disgusting and unhygienic. All in the light of the sun, he took a deep breath and tried to be more confident. Somehow, it just made him more anxious.

The crowd of people who stared at him. The males, who he had bullied. The girls who labeled him as a loser and paid nothing to him but insults, gossip and hate. Could they dare touch him now? Doubling this was the memory of the friend he cherished, the memories of before, the sweetness of friendship that he lost and had to earn so hard.

Hushed whispers now. He was going to take the first few steps within the school gates. Ignore the crowd. Smile. Play into the old MVP he once was: friendly and grinning impishly with the charm of a tennis player so smooth into his play. But that had to be fake.

He felt something glue him to the spot. A magnetic and powerful source of force. Something that was coarse and raw and somehow polished in the edges. The steel of a katana, the plain gentleness of a goddess who bloomed momentarily to bestow the short-lived blooms into the earth in the April days that marked the start of school. Fire and water.

He craned his head, trying to be brave.

A pair of pretty indigo eyes, and an Oriental face of a girl who stood at one hundred and sixty inches. The great steel in her eyes, the magnetic force she bestowed to him. A round face of fair skin, with a sharp nose, well-arched brows, too-full lips and glowing skin, framed with deep chestnut hair that she had hot-oiled and put up in two fat and plump pigtails that utterly screamed "GIRLY!" It seemed almost obvious that she seemed frustrated with her appearance, like she was trying to tone down her traditional Japanese features that had the feel of a hime-cut beauty, layered with the edge of a fighter.

Like she wasn't happy with her. She had the athletic body of a fighter, with thin legs. Small waist. Liver lips with lip gloss. Ugh.

Harmless.

"What are you staring at?" he asked. He hoped his tone wouldn't give everything he had away. Not this girl with those indigo eyes that haunted him today. It just happened like he was pulled to her, and she to him.

The girl fixed him with her luminous gaze. A pair of indigo mirrors. Lips curved, in a sly and steely way that made him compelled to fight the glow of her presence. It was purely a haunting experience. He might as well be in the presence of Kushinada-hime* or even Audrey Hepburn.

"_**You**_ have a scar on your chin," she declared. What was creepy was that her voice was high-pitched and ringing and that her sentences were followed by –sa* and for this, some girls exchanged glances. Moreover, the tones she spoke in were bossy.

"So what?" he snapped, trying to argue with her. It was best she left him alone, seriously.

"Your scar will get dirty. And if it gets dirty, you will contract some infection. Besides, the scar's still fresh. It'd be best you protect it." As she spoke, the girl fished a new BandAid from her pocket. She peeled it off.

Her fingers were slender and there were some cuts in it.

"If you insist, I can do it myself."

"NO!" Her protest was urgent and there was a flash of annoyance in her eyes. So it was a mutual annoyance. "Let _**me**_ do it. I don't trust your hands, at that rate."

There was the shuffling of feet – and the smell of sakura-scented lotion and perfume. Her coat-covered arm to his face, held at a length that alarmed and enraptured him. The swaying of her chestnut hair, hypnotizing with its very texture, and the careless way that she moved with her made him try not to be ensnared in her clever play.

"Closer, Toothless."

"What did you just CALL me?"

"I called you Toothless, Toothless."

She pushed him closer, and he was alarmed. Frozen. She might as well call him Dickless, for all he knew and wondered. A blunt girl with a strong presence; he was already getting a bad feeling from his belly about it.

She placed the Band Aid lightly on his chin, the touch of a flower petal that disappeared too fast.

"_**There.**_"

Her voice was a soft intimate whisper. Her face was so close. Up close, he could make out her delicate and pixielike features, the kind of pretty and sweet girl he could see her to be once and would ultimately be. He had to admit… She was sure attractive, not a bad catch at all chances.

Their noses touched.

Like a bolt of the fire ignition, they stared at each others' eyes, alarmed by the closeness, the physical attraction between them.

She snapped first.

"Toothless, why… are you staring at me? It's rude to stare."

He was turned off.

Hypocrite.

He looked away from her. Why were girls so troublesome? He would seriously have liked this one. Seriously. His type. Only she was just so troublesome, but a serious looker. Tough and gentle…but way too tough and outspoken for his taste. Girls. UGH.

A hypocrite.

As he took one last look at the cute girl, he noticed her hair. The shade was familiar. The way her hips rocked as she walked, head held high with all that pretty hair. Her legs were very visible, attracting potential fanboys and they looked pretty good. The light spring in her step, a girl.

But her voice was taken away by the wind and bought to the room.

* * *

_Sha la la_

_I know I'll have it someday._

_Light in my ephemeral heart, _

_Shine._

That song.

That damn song.

The one he heard that boy hum to himself. _Sha la la… Stronger, stronger. SHINE!_ The song about the light of the firefly, of the love that was timeless but ephemeral. That song about a girl who worried about a boy and compared her love to the light of a firefly.

_Shalala._

He grit his teeth, the sweat pouring off his face.

He had to get her name, no matter what. This girl was a looker and pretty tough. This girl who sang the mysterious song that friend sang so often. She was the key to the mystery. Despite how she treated him, he had to get her name. Lure her into revealing the truth. That way, he could move on.

He just had to.

As a result, he quickly avoided the gangsters in his break time. He hated study with a passion, and he evaded the following teachers who wanted a word or two with him. It really sucked; he disliked them. Hypocritical, critical teachers who bought you down, called you a monster, like your own father did.

He had to.

_Who might know her? Who was she? _He didn't even know where to begin. Damn. Damn. Forgetting his lunch was a thing; but recess was another thing altogether.

He had to get a good connection. He wanted to talk to her, but really, he was just so afraid. He flinched. He never had to be scared. He needed this connection.

At the third period, which was the last period before recess, he pulled out a random piece of paper from his own notebook and started to scribble furiously in it. Some things just couldn't be explained plainly in words.

Takeishi Middle manager

l

? - Me

l

Girl

This was more complicated than a typical Algebra problem.

No, it was just like the stupid Algebra problem. He glanced up at the green plane with the white chalk on it. Dusty fading finger marks of students who played with it. The hasty scrawls of an active teacher.

X + Y = 10

5x = 100

Oh crap. He really didn't get the problem. Solving two variables was shit enough. He hated them. Nonetheless, it was such a mystery how to solve for the two variables. Same as the way the Takeishi middle school basketball team manager and the girl who had placed the fragile piece of band-aid on his chin, the one who hummed. A song that connected them. Some thing had to. It was a mystery he needed to know.

Interested shuffling.

It had to be Hotta, wanting to know his business again.

_What's her name?_ he had asked him, after seeing the whole thing. Shining dark eyes. Interested. The burly man had grinned in admiration of her long legs and pretty hair. _A looker. I want to know. I'm interested._

_So am I,_ he had wanted to say, but he didn't.

Really, the connection and how to get it was x and y, variables that connected around each other, weaving an ominous and immortal chaplet.

He was irritated.

He just had to ask. Closing his eyes, he visualized her.

_Indigo eyes. Pale. Long legs, small waist, long, long hair that's been done in the salon. Sharp-tongued and annoying, humming._

He tapped the paper with his pencil, forgetting that the key to solving his mystery right now was supposed to be replaced by actually analyzing and solving for the variables using the Polya's Method. Which he didn't bother to memorize at all.

"Mit-chan?"

"What?"

"Sensei's looking at you."

"Oh really –"

He stared at his paper, all under the shadow of the teacher.

"What is this, Mitsui-kun?" Surreptitiously, the sneaky teacher snatched the paper from his desk.

Double the doo-doo.

"That's nothing –"

The teacher's eyes lit up when he saw the contents of the said paper. His eyes danced with some youth. "Ahh. Some girl we got here, do we, Mitsui-kun?"

A few people sniggered. How insensitive.

"I hope you don't mind if you tell us about this mystery girl."

"I don't really know her name –"

The bell rang abruptly, and quickly, he left the seat, avoiding the teacher's eyes. It was humiliating and his cheeks burned with it.

It was all over.

Firstly, he needed to get her name. Someone who knew people from all over Shohoku. Someone who also knew girls.

Ayako.

"You look like you're plotting something," chuckled a voice behind him. Someone who always smiled in the way he said things. His voice said it all. Kogure.

"I- I'm not."

"Well, you look worried. It would enlighten me if you tell me about it. Maybe I can help with it."

Kogure could help.

"There's this girl, and I need to know her name. I'm not interested in her, okay? I just want her name and that's all. I need to talk to her. I want to talk to her about something from the past. It's been annoying me lately."

"Ahh." Kogure breathed in relief. "For a moment, I was worried she dumped you or something like that. What does she look like? I might actually know her, or Ayako does."

"She's really athletic-looking, but petite. Indigo eyes, hair that looks like she got it from the salon and it's realllllyyy long. Long legs, and a skirt that shows it off. She's tough and too outspoken and annoying."

"Indigo eyes and long legs?"

He nodded, pressing Kogure to consider who it was.

"Anything in the way she wears her uniform?"

"She doesn't wear the ribbon at all."

"I got your mystery girl, all right. Not a bad choice." Kogure looked at him squarely. "Ayako's friends with her. She watches the practices most of the time, though I've heard she's in the martial arts clubs."

He knew it.

"So who is it? What year?"

"Tanaka Ami. She's a junior, in the Second Year. Actually quite popular because of her bad temper. Other than that, not really outgoing."

Bad temper?

"Any exact club?"

"Probably Karate. I see her often walking home alone."

"Tell me about her temper."

"It's all the rumours say. I just hear about them. The rumours are she's a Yankee, and that she can beat anyone dead if you piss her off."

"Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome, anytime." Kogure glanced at him thoughtfully. "You know, I think you should talk to her anytime." His lips lopsided in a downward curve. "It'll really keep her company, Mitsui. She's…like you. Tanaka… She needs the company; I think she's lonely."

_Lonely._

It didn't seem so.

For this, he heeded Kogure's replies. "I'll try talking to her as soon as I can," he promised his friend.

So he had actually gotten his x; he needed the y.

Ugh.

* * *

"I told you, Hayato, I don't like you. You're just infatuated with me and get out. We're not close!"

"AMI-CHAN, MARRY ME! I WILL HAVE YOUR CHILDREN!"

"I said, STOP IT!"

Furiously, she kicked the guy away as she walked her way through the silvery hallways with her usual quick and bad and difficult temper.

That quick and awful temper that destroyed everyone.

Ami's best feature had been her hair. Her long and smooth and silky brown tresses had played with more than a dozen hearts as she had grown up, in her later years. Grown out of maturity, she had done away with the short crop she used to replace long locks with in order to enjoy the physics of sports. These locks made the boys chase after her.

Her temper was a huge factor.

Through her first year in Shohoku and last year in middle school, she had been popular with various peers. Love confessions were delivered thrice a week in middle school; and in high school, every month. Mainly, it was her appearance. It was all about her aura, her appearance.

Condemned by her looks.

High school, she had ravaged the hearts of those her hair played with. Bought them to their Apollyon.

_No boy shall have me. No guy should kiss me. No one to hold my hand. No one to walk me home. I don't need boys._

She had scorned the romance of the shojo. Cruel, hot-headed, and tough. That way, she wouldn't be condemned as a weakling. Pushed everyone away from her. Flesh and lava in the plain reactive anger she lashed out in everything.

Goo-goo eyes from boys, their distaste for her difficult and bitter temper, and rumors that affected her image.

A few friends she had, but not close.

For lunch, she headed outside the building, wanting to calm herself all by her solitary presence.

Finally, she was all alone.

Leaning against the wall, she immediately sat on the green grass and pulled out her homemade lunch.

Away from the rumors and the overwhelming words. Away from the crowds. Away from the teachers who made you stand up in class until you were forced to answer to them. Away from others who bad-mouthed you because you were hotheaded.

_Finally._

She picked at the _onigiri_ she had made herself and sunk her teeth slowly into it, savoring the filling inside. _Not a bad try_, she complimented herself. Her progress in cooking was getting more satisfactory every try she made.

After finishing her meal, she got up and started to walk.

Everyday at lunch, she walked around the school, out of boredom. She enjoyed the long walks. It made her enjoy the fresh air the school offered. It made her appreciate the beauty of the transient blossoms that bloomed in the April days.

No.

She had to be crazy.

Walking just gave her something to do than feel all alone.

* * *

"_Who do you like? Why do you watch?"_

"…"

"_Come on, Ami. Really." Ayako laughed. Her voice had a teasing tone to it. "I'm really and inextinguishably curious about it. Majority of practice, you watch. Ever since first year. I bet you like someone!"_

"_Me?"_

"_Yup!"_

"…_."_

"_Geez. You're so monotone. How ironic for a girl who gets angry all the time!"_

"_HEY! I'm not angry all the time," Ami deadpanned._

"_You do. But back to the question: who do you like?"_

"_Umm…"_

"_Rukawa!"_

"_WHAT?"_

"_I knew it!"_

"_No; he's useless."_

"_Ryota?"_

"_YUCK."_

"_Kogure-senpai?"_

"…"

_Ami facepalmed._

The next time he spotted her, it was after practice, and she was outside of the basketball gym, obviously besotted with _Romeo and Juliet._ Weirdly enough, it looked like she was waiting for him.

Her face was sweaty, and her hair was wet. It trailed down her waist, wet and tied loosely.

"Is it me or are you waiting for me?"

"Nope." She was deadpanning now. "It's just your imagination. I have a piece of advice for you: KEEP IT TO YOURSELF."

"Then what are you doing here outside of the gym? Stalking me? Waiting for me?" He scratched his head. "Annoying," he muttered to himself.

"MIT-CHAN HAS A GIRLFRIEND!"

Sakuragi was teasing him.

Annoyed, he craned his head to Sakuragi. And so did Tanaka.

"SHE'S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!" he snapped.

"For crying out loud, he's not my type! He's really annoying, you know," Tanaka retorted. Her voice was loud.

The thud of a heavy bag and Shakespeare book made Mitsui look at her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

A vein throbbed in her forehead. Her eyes flashed, and her face was turning red. "Showing him that it's bad to piss me off!"

She ran towards the gym in the direction of Hanamichi Sakuragi and started to beat him up.

Uppercut. Lowercut. A headkick. Roundhous kick. Man, she could fight. The speed. The pure anger in her eyes.

No wonder the boys feared her.

She was strong and hotheaded and too opinionated for her own good.

Forty-five minutes later, she was leaning on him, with a pissed expression on her face. Her arm brushed against his shoulders. Her brushed hair was frizzing out of its respective scrunchies and her cheek was dirty.

They were walking home already.

"DAMN GORILLA! WHY DID HE RUIN MY FUN?" Tanaka furiously ranted. "KILLJOY!" Angrily, the second-year student shook her first melodramatically at the night sky. Her loud voice echoed through the corners of the night and the Moon smiled at her qualms. "GOOLLY!"

Mitsui snickered.

Akagi had not punched her, but rather tore her apart from beating Sakuragi up fully. She was unstoppable in her fury, and pretty scary. Even Kogure had looked embarrassed.

"Did you just snicker?"

He nodded.

"Stop snickering at me, Toothless!"

"You're not my mother. You don't tell me what to do."

She sighed. "Jeez, Toothless, stop being so stiff. You know, if you're that way, you'll get white hair faster than you can say 'Basketball.'"

It was his time to fire out something at her.

"I should say the same to you, Tanaka."

She scowled at him.

"What makes you think so? You barely even know me. It's not your business, Toothless." Her hands balled.

"You," he grinned at her, "are very bossy, Tanaka Ami."

Instead of the conversation he wanted to have, he ended up annoying her.

* * *

* - Kushinada - the wife of Susanoo, who he first met when he saved her from Orochi, a monster. He ended up marrying her, being astounded by her beauty. A Japanese deity.


	2. Bounce To You!

**Chapter 2:** Bounce To You!

* * *

I'm so bad, bad

Then I'm so good, good

Can't nobody hold us down

Nothing's gonna stop us now.

-Can't Nobody, 2NE1-

* * *

Tanaka is my property. XD I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's meant for a little fun. By the way, guess who the shopkeeper is. Brownie points for guessing who the person Tanaka is talking to in her cellphone and also for piecing the relationship between Aoi and Tanaka. So far, I've seen in the reviews of **Shojo S**, it looks like a lot of people adore **Tanaka.** Thanks for the reviews! If you have suggestions, please pm me.

-Nikki

* * *

"So you talked to Tanaka?" Kogure asked cheerfully, pushing up his glasses with the flick of his large and long tapered fingers. His smile lit up his whole being. It was a natural grace that went with his usual actions. The light that he emitted as a person was something Mitsui did not see often in other people easily. Kogure was gentle, and kind, and when he offered advice and help, he meant it. He wasn't the best in the court, but you couldn't help but overlook his gentle aura that you took him for granted. He was a gem of a person and a player, irreplaceable and someone very easy to get along with.

"…"

Silence erupted.

Mitsui and Kogure were walking on the way to school. They had crossed paths on the route and it was funny, too. But hey, it was rare he went with someone to school like this. Better make the best out of it, too. He needed a nice talk with someone after all the messes he had whacked. The latest one being the legendary Tanaka girl with the monotone face and awfully violent temper that surpassed those of gorilla lookalikes and red-headed idiots who thought they owned the world. But man, he had really ended up getting whacked by this girl. She was Jeanne d'Arc, all in the fire of her fury, beneath the Japanese deity he found himself wondering at. When he had abandoned her at the street after the verbal word war, he had hidden beneath an alley and continued following her around for the next minutes until she actually found her house.

"I did talk to her."

"So, how was she?"

"She was violent and annoying and is capable of only one emotion and it is anger."

Kogure chuckled. His eyes were fixed on the road as the staccato of footsteps grew more distant behind them.

"Why would you say that?"

"From what I've seen so far, Kogure. The nerve of that girl!" He cringed at the thought. "Very hotheaded, very grouchy. She's too brave. Too unstable. Too troublesome. I don't think she'll be really worth my time, honestly."

"Well, why do you want to talk to her in the first place?"

"She reminds me of something. Besides, I don't think I've chosen right to actually bring it up, too…"

"Well, what really happened?" Kogure's eyes were full of concern. "I still think it'd be better you try to get to know her better, in any case? Maybe she's not warming up to you that well."

"I called her bossy and annoying."

Kogure nodded.

"What else?" he prodded, intent to get to the bottom of the whole mystery.

"And I told her she was a huge hypocrite. I said she was acting like my mother, and I told her to stop bossing me around. I made fun of her," he admitted, feeling a tinge of guilt at his actions the previous night. Why was Kogure like this? Did he like Tanaka, too? Kogure didn't normally have many girl friends. He just got along very well with people, and he wasn't scared to be honest, even if it meant getting hit in the face. How come Kogure knew what to do and he didn't? Was it because he was dealing with a girl?

Maybe.

Okay, Mitsui had to admit it to himself. He had never been one to check out the girls. He suited himself to hope and work and play. Never batted an eyelash at the females who yelled your eardrums out of your ear so much that the screaming ravaged your balance and it would go off. Never one to skirt-chase and get dumped. Never one who talked of the girls he liked, because he never had a girl friend he was close to and talked to a lot. Basketball was his territory, never the opposite gender population. He didn't even talk to girls.

And barely even knew how to get along with them.

Okay, maybe that was the problem. He had treated her like she was your gangster in the street. It crept the hell out of him. What would he act if she passed by now? Would she beat him up? Would she collar him and yell his ear off? Curse him till her saliva ran out and her throat scorched for liquid?

What would Kogure really say? Sakuragi might as well could laugh at him. Inwardly, he cursed the latter for even knowing how to talk to girls. He had had fifty girls who dumped him. For these days, the redhead was absolutely besotted with the captain's little sister, who obviously was crazy about Rukawa. Even he knew how to get along with females better than him! Ryouta, the punky point guard, had Ayako as a close friend and ten girls who dumped him. What would Anzai say? He felt his face heat up at the thought of Anzai and Ami, his train of thinking suddenly trapped in a Labyrinth of possibilities.

Akagi would _**preach**_.

And Tanaka. Tanaka. Tanaka. The girl with the awful temper. The wild but lonely look in her eyes that the despair of monotony tried so desperately to mask. Tanaka, the girl who beat boys up. Tanaka. He was finding himself remembering her voice, the magnetism that made him curious of her. The texture of her hair, the iridescent smell of her girly perfume.

He wanted to talk to her badly. She annoyed, amused and drew him.

"Well, I think you did an approach that offended her. At least you didn't make her cry."

Kogure patted his shoulder. "If you really want to talk to her, you should make her feel a wee comfortable around you. Try to tease her a bit, it won't hurt you, you know. Joke around. Just be a little more sensitive, if it won't work. If you really want to talk, then do it. I think it'd give you some fresh air, you know. You need quiet company."

He smiled.

"Besides, nothing's taking you down. She's a hard one to get personal with."

"I won't give up. If Anzai will hear, then I have to make it up," he responded. Agh, the fire of piety in the face of the dear old coach who made things right for him. He didn't want Anzai to doubt his new change of reputation.

He had to get Tanaka.

"Think win-win!"

"Win-win?"

"A situation where both of you benefit," Kogure explained cheerfully. "She gets company and a little less lonely. You get your talk, some company aside from Hotta. Not that Hotta's a bad influence. If you like her, then be her friend."

"So you want us to be good friends?"

"Why not? You just might."

He blinked, and blurs of pink scattered through the wind. Adjusting the angle of his head, he saw the sakura trees. Shohoku. They were at the school now. Along the side of the trees, he noticed a wave of bushy and nicely-textured hair, so long that it stood out.

Tanaka.

She was standing against a tree, her eyes a strong indigo that stood out. Her hair was tied, and fussed with as if she was trying too hard. Her skin was neat and she looked good. The monotonous expression of hers were always so hard to decode and read. The indigo orbs wandered around for a while – and met his.

His.

Shoot.

At the alarm, her eyes widened and she quickly looked away. Her skin pinked, as if she was suddenly a blushing bride.

He looked away, feeling the same surge of blood and heat at the eye contact. Ugh. It was so frustrating but he had to try.

"How much do you like her?" Kogure inquired. His voice was relatively lower. An amused grin graced his face.

"A bit."

"Oh. I see."

And he chuckled.

"What's so funny?"

"Ahh, that Miyagi and Sakuragi tried to place bets on her being your girlfriend. Akagi, of course, tried to stop it. Most of the team has heard. Even Ayako's starting to have her suspicions."

"And Anzai?"

"Ahh, he just laughs. He's amused. No worries; he's happy, actually." Kogure strained to look around for Akagi.

"So how do you think she sees you?"

"Tanaka?"

"Yep."

"I think she hates me already."

Kogure shook his head.

"It might look like it, but who knows, maybe she doesn't at all."

* * *

_I think I'm ugly_

_Nobody wants to love me_

Ami shut off her mp3 player in frustration to the song that was blaring lowly in her ear. Ugly by 2NE1. How appropriate.

Running a hand through her hair, she felt her cheeks heat up at the recollection of the event. He had met her eye contact. And he actually looked pretty sorry. It was just so weird. He annoyed her, and amused her, but she had to admit, she liked him a bit.

Lunchtime once again, and she was seated all alone under the sakura tree all by herself. It was her personal tradition to eat under those soft pink petals that made her dream girl dreams as per usual daydream. Tucking away the headphones she had, she unplugged it off the mp3 player and inside her pocket. She had had eaten a _bento_ she made herself, but for some reason, she had to make another extra one. Her typical meal was an _onigiri_ with tempura, salad, soup and vegetables and sometimes _katsudon_, but this boxed lunch was not your typical boxed lunch. Seaweed soup, no meat at all. A rice ball and dimsum, with the former having a seafood flavor.

Lunch for an old man.

"Do you have an extra lunch?"

Ami scowled. She didn't need to look to see who it was. The arrogant sharpshooter with the scar in the base/bottom of his pointed chin. The guy with the BandAid. He was staring at her, a clueless typical guy with his school coat unbuttoned, showing his clean white shirt underneath. For a moment, he looked pretty cute and adorable. It amused her monotone cave of a heart.

Poor boy.

"Here." She gave it to him. Eagerly, the boy opened the cover. "I hope it is to your liking," she added, hiding her amusement as she saw him scan the contents. An old man's lunch for a toothless boy. A pretty amusing combination.

"Yeah, it is," he admitted as he took a few bites of the meal. "Well, the meal's not bad, Tanaka, I guess."

"It's not the food that makes the meal, _Senpai._ It's the company."

"You're probably right." Here he was, drifting off. Here, he took a look at her shyly, sizing her up.

"Do you like basketball, -?"

"Tanaka. Just Tanaka."

"Tanaka. Why not Ami?"

"Because we're not close. Just because I gave you a meal doesn't mean we're friends, dude. If you want a meal everyday, then drop by. The company makes a good meal."

He grinned at her.

"So, Tanaka, you like basketball?"

"Y-Yes," she admitted, reluctantly. She did. She did. She loved it. The intensity of the guarding. The beauty of the three-pointers. The speed of the alley-oops and the grace of the dunks that Rukawa so nonchalantly placed on the backboard. "I used to play myself on the team of my middle school. It was pretty fun, too. I had a lot of friends, admirers. I managed fine myself."

"It doesn't seem like it. You don't look like it. I really can't imagine you having admirers, honestly."

She gave him a bitter little glare. "Of course, I don't. I grew my hair out, too. Trust me, you wouldn't recognize me in my middle school days."

"Oh really?"

"Shut up."

He actually did, but not without his bug-eyed look that would later be meant and reserved for her.

"So, you still have that injury?"

Her words were monotone. They were heavy onomatopoeias formed in the wind. No hints of emotion. It was a group of words to voice out a certain ideal.

"How did you know?"

She shrugged, quiet and still. "Everyone knows," she remarked, avoiding eye contact. "Besides, if you want to join me for lunch every day since Kami knows you cook, then it means something. I'll be giving you boxed lunches – but they're not for _**free**_."

"Free?"

"Yeah. I demand a price."

Damn. What price was it now? First the bento, then the price. Why was she like this? She was a hard tough nut to crack.

"What price is it then?"

"I want you to listen to me and be a good boy for the rest of your third year. It's your last year so make it count."

"Excuse me?!" He felt his features twist. Was this a more ferocious form of his mother?

"I don't offer my company for _**free**_." She offered him a cup of tea, and he took it reluctantly. "Going back to the subject, I suppose your stamina will be weaker than before. You're still readjusting yourself to play. I know your knee's healed and blah blah, but I think you and I need to go out."

_Go out?_

Was she –

"Don't get any wrong ideas," she declared, smacking his cheek. It sent his face almost slamming into the nearest wall. Patting his own cheek, he glanced at her furtively. Against his hand, the cheek she hit was hotter than ever. He rubbed it, half-furious, half-confused, a traveler who got blocked by a challenge in his new road.

"Go where?"

"To buy you a new leg guard, some basketball stuff. Unless your old stuff from Takeishi still fits you, of course." She snorted, as she twisted and closed the container of her tea.

"What if my mother asks me where I'm going? She'll make assumptions," he grumbled. "She'll assume it's the gangsters. She'll never believe me."

Tanaka's face creased boyishly. "Then _I'll_ pick you up –sa!"

-Sa?*

"Do you even know where my house is? Besides, when will this happen?"

"I'd say Friday, sometime you're not busy. I'm going to your house, no sweat. There. Get it?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Are you and _senpai_ dating, Ami-san?"

"Excuse _**me**_?"

"I saw you giving a boxed lunch to him. You know…"

"That's a poor excuse for assuming such a thing. You know very well I am asexual," Ami grumbled. "I am not attracted to men. Never! They. Are. Pigs. Get it?"

"Come **on**!"

"Ayako, Ayako, why are you so desperate to learn who I like? I told you already, I'm not interested in dating."

"You are NOT asexual!" called Misaki, Ami's friend. She was athletic, tall, with a good head on shoulders. Attractive and blessed with intelligence. Your elegant socialite in the making.

"Why am I NOT asexual?"

"Dude, I know you had a crush."

"It was in middle school. Past tense."

"Whatever. You know what the proof is? It's proof you are NOT asexual. Your crush is a guy. Thus, you are not asexual."

"I doubt that," she muttered.

* * *

"Are you sure he's changed? I don't trust him."

"I'll make sure of that. I boss him around. Don't worry so much. Do you seriously want to die?"

"I don't want to die yet!"

"Good. Don't worry. I'm fine. I'm going to the basketball court right now. I just got from Karate practice."

"Great. That's good to know. If he tries to do something to you, then –"

"I can manage fine."

Snapping the cellphone shut, Ami haggled with her feet across the winding walk that intersected the Shohoku buildings together. From Karate to Basketball, it was a relief that the buildings were built fine and well-suited to the needs of the specified athletes of the said teams. Talking to this guy who had goo-goo eyes whenever she saw him was more different than talking to him on the phone. He was calm, but when he talked to her in person, he always blushed.

_Poor little Kazushi_, she remembered his other friends tease him before. _Your crush doesn't notice you._

She never took it as an offense, just smiled and said she wasn't his crush. He liked her, she was fine with him and that worked out a lot for both of them. They were friends, and they saw each other a few times in weeks, as not to arouse the curiosity of the other schools. Her, some schoolgirl, sneaking around with a Shoyo player, was not something Ami wanted to see in her JKA application sheet for a Karate scholarship. Her sensei believed in her truly, and promised her one day, she would surpass everything, become a star in martial arts.

With the arrogant ex-MVP, she felt warmer than usual. The magnetism was mutual, though neither of them would admit it. Spending time together sharing bentos and tea together was the activity they employed in their break. Reading, storytelling – anything to keep themselves amused. It was a simple scene – her telling him to eat his bento if he valued his life. Too willingly, he would put on a docile face and eat and _**smile**_ as he savored the flavor of the boxed lunch she made for him.

It was a friendship stranger than the ones he and she had had. No more bawdy jokes, no more stealing swipes of cigarette sticks, just some hitting and poking him, the solace and the mild humor that accompanied every step they took.

As she raced steadily, she found her cheeks flushing in delight. It had been so long since she had been like this. Two years, to be exact.

* * *

Going to the mall with her was something he felt awkward to be thinking of. His mother had quickly pried her nose into the affair when he had accidentally let slip he was leaving the house to meet a friend. She was demanding and when had spotted the petite and monotonous shape near the cherry blossoms, had deduced and assumed it was his girlfriend. With a last loud whine that Tanaka was not his at all, but rather, _**someone else's**_, he had ran as far as he could.

"What if people see us?"

"Then we better look discreet," Tanaka quipped. Mitsui stole a look at her. A beige coat that reached until her hips, a skimpy gray minidress, boots, beady earrings and a lavender scarf made her look very girly. She wore her hair in two perky and fat braids, and she held two cream-colored gloves. Her long legs were very visible. How ironic – she had the talk and the personality of a boy, no matter how monotone a boy she would make at all.

"Discreet?"

"Yup."

"What if people will talk?"

"People always talk!" she snapped, dragging his arm and herself towards the nearest sports store. "Besides, no one will know we went here together –"

Oh, shoot.

In the sports store, three girls were there. Pale and feminine, even way girlier than the way Tanaka dressed. Rukawa's trio of hoarding fangirls. They were hounding around the store, practically _**squealing**_ around, pigs. _**They**_ would know.

"Oh, they won't notice us."

"I HOPE RUKAWA-SAMA WILL LIKE THIS!" One huggled a large Nike bag to herself. "I WANTTT TO BUY HIM THIS!"

Rolling her eyes, Tanaka went up to the store owner. It was a mustached man with black eyes and ebony-colored hair. He had tanned skin and was polishing a shoe so carefully, almost _**lovingly**_.

"Sir?"

The man looked at her and smiled pleasantly.

"I want to buy a leg guard for –"

"For him? Your boyfriend?"

At the last word, Mitsui felt his cheeks redden. _**He**_ was her boyfriend? No way. He couldn't imagine him being the guy she went out. Besides, she had told him he was too annoying and too troublesome to actually be considered a potential love interest. Tanaka's face was pale, and yet her monotony was something he admired. The calm features and the ironically scary tones she delivered threateningly.

"Boyfriend? We're not. I have another –"

At the sound of her voice, the Rukawa fangirls eyed Tanaka with interest. In other words, the green-eyed monster just popped out of nowhere.

"Isn't that Tanaka?" one asked. Another smiled evilly at Tanaka.

"What are you doing here? Buying something for Rukawa-sama? Sorry, but the fan club is full," she sniffed. She glared at Tanaka hard. Yep. It had to be the green-eyed monster. Compared to the way Tanaka dressed and the way she herself chose her clothes, both looked feminine, but Tanaka seemed more natural. She moved with the ease of a man under a woman's clothes in _**Kabuki**_. The other fangirl was obviously very girly, very much fangirling and very female. The dark side of human psychology.

"I didn't say –"

"You're denying it. Get out! No one wants you here!" squeaked another, and pushed Tanaka out of her way.

Tanaka's face didn't crease but she continued to push her way. "I need to buy something and you are only blocking my way. I need something here. You are annoying, so get out of my way."

"Maybe I should say the same to you!" This time, all three of them joined to push Tanaka out of the store.

"Tanaka," Mitsui hissed. "Tanaka! Are you going to buy or not?"

She was against the door, her eyes dull with her anger. The girls were covering her, and he could see her hair was getting messed up. A few strands frizzed out of her way, but she was silent.

"_**I**_ am. Just chill, Toothless." Hands from the girls tried to pin her, but she quickly got one of the hands. Her hold was a tight grip from a fighter, and her eyes were still dull. Her fingers tightened more, and for a moment, Mitsui's blood chilled. Her eyes were no longer of this world; they blazed.

_I am the best._

"HEY! OUCHHH!"

She tried to wriggle free, but Tanaka shrugged and let her. Once the deranged girl tried to grasp Tanaka's hand, something happened. Tanaka twisted her forearm. Her forearm. Her hand. It twisted, and her fist made contact with a collarbone.

A loud BANG! And it was followed by another _**thud**_.

Tanaka had attacked the girl who tried to assault her. Frantically, the other Rukawa fangirls edged away from the girl.

So Tanaka could actually _**fight.**_ Somehow, her style was familiar.

Wiping her hands, she waved to the shop owner, who was staring at her with wide eyes.

"I would like a red and black leg guard," she pronounced, trying to sound polite. The gleam in her eyes convinced you that nothing happened. The flustered owner looked at Mitsui and winked.

"You're a lucky guy. She's cute – and a badass, too," he mouthed.

Tanaka nodded at him curtly as she scanned the price.

"Who's going to pay between us?"

"I do; I don't need a girl to pay for me."

"Are you serious? You can't even have your own teeth fixed"-at this, the shopkeeper burst into laughter-"at this rate. So I will be the one who pays. I can't have a guy pay when he can't even afford to get his own teeth fixed, Toothless."

His nerves twitched. Again, with the Toothless little joke. She always called him that. _**Toothless**_. It made him annoyed at her. She had to rub it in his face.

As she set her bills on the table, she paid, and the shopkeeper kept grinning. He was amused. Of course he had to be; a tall guy being bossed around by a monotonous girl with a notorious temper.

"Thank you," she said coolly.

The shopkeeper beamed, showing yellowish teeth. "So what's your name, Miss? You're a girl who fights like a boy. Where do you study?"

"I'm Tanaka. Tanaka Ami. I study at Shohoku, but after high school, I'm planning to go JKA."

What was JKA, seriously? Mitsui racked his mind. The JKA sounded really familiar. JKA… JKA…

"_Why are you leaving? Didn't you said you wanted to play with me?" he asked the quiet boy who always sang to himself that enigma of a song. The hum of a mysterious karateka who brooded and said things bluntly yet with life, the subtlety of a baby crying. The team manager who never took offense, the boy who girls wanted, an unofficial part of the Takeishi sextet. He wasn't the sun to his team, like Mitsui was._

_He was a boy who shone in the darkness for his toughness and gentle ways. His smiles, his looks. The way he estimated stats and the way his fingers curled into fists, the smile he reserved for his team. _

"_I said that, senpai." He grinned. A bevy of girls started to scream._

"_AOIIII-KUN!"_

_Aoi was what everyone generally called him. For the blue shirts he wore and his deep blue eyes. _

"_But what?"_

"_JKA."_

_Aoi-kun laughed._

"_I have JKA."_

When he looked back at her, he found himself amazed at her deep indigo eyes.

_Areumdaun Seoul City  
Sikkeureoun eumaksori  
Kkaman nun galsaekmeori  
Ddarahagin too slow  
Taedoneun hwaksilhage  
Jasinkam haneul hyanghae  
Ppeon ppeon dangdanghage  
Wanhanda haedo  
Can't touch this_

To his surprise, by his side, Tanaka was rapping the last two lines. Her voice was monotone, but to his surprise, it wasn't all dull and dead. She had a nice vocal range. But something struck him: she lacked the _**emotions**_ to perform it.

"So are we done now?"

"Yup."

Tanaka lowered her head. Her bushy and pretty locks splayed down her shoulders. The other strands were unpinned. Her cheeks were ruddy from the earlier skirmish and it gave her a flushed look that made him think of a rose in the bloom of the summer. The texture of her skin looked less fragile; a trickle of sweat poured down her cheeks.

"Anything you want to say, Toothless?" She looked expectant of him.

"Thank you –"

The loud eruption of hunger came from her. Her belly was aching. She was hungry. Great, Mitsui, he thought. He had to pay her back now. She was buying him a leg guard and this was how he treated her. Not giving her food to eat. He sure didn't know how to keep a female friend close, besides Ayako.

"You're hungry," he stated. "I should treat you."

"**No**." Her negation was confirmed. More beads of sweat. She shook her head stubbornly. "_**No**_. I don't give a damn. I don't want to eat, Toothless." Her hands groped for the wall, and there was something that seemed off with her. Limply, the girl tried to push her lips into a thin line. "I'm fine, Toothless. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself. So now."

"You're not okay!"

She stroked her forehead. She was skinny.

"I told you, don't worry so much! You should worry about yourself, Toothless! Any more than I could."

* * *

"Women are the darkest continent of psychology," Kogure told him as they were in the locker rooms.

"Says who?" Mitsui pulled his shirt off his head.

"Says Sigmund Freud in a Psychology book. Theory of Personality, an Asian textbook for Psychology students."

"Well, he's certainly right."

Kogure laughed.

"Well, I side with him," Miyagi chimed in as he slipped off his school shoes. "Women are the strangest creatures in the planet. But not Aya-chan!" His gleeful cheer at his last sentence reminded Mitsui of Tanaka and her monotonous but amusing ways, the coldness of her personality. The mischievous point guard grinned at him slyly. "Maybe Tanaka is the most suspicious little specimen of them all!"

Sakuragi and Miyagi cracked up.

"She's monotone – but feisty! Almost gave me a black eye when I tried to get her name and number!"

"That girl is a Yankee!"

"No wonder no one wants to run after her –"

"Even Micchi here"-Sakuragi patted Mitsui's bare shoulder warmly-"is her toy!"

"Is it true she calls you Toothless?" called one of the bench players. Miyagi and Sakuragi kept on laughing, further humiliating him because of the way Tanaka and he interacted. Always arguing, fighting verbally. Yet strangely, exchanging words and lunches. Days and time. Walks. It was one of the strangest relationships they had seen.

In the eyes of many, she seemed to be a very bad, bad girl. Then to Mitsui, she would be so good. Her own haters never seemed to run to her, but they were too slow. She ran her own show: she was on her own pace of monotony and observed and jested. Boys thought she was too troublesome, but to him, she was a little mystery he had to solve. Kicking and punching, hammer fists and nimble outfits, the Korean music she rapped monotonously in a deadpan that destroyed her own rhythm, the deep blue color of her eyes that he started to love, the gentle way she balled her fists that reminded him of his close friend Aoi-kun.

While his own dreams were for sale, he was trying hard to be good. He was good, but he was so bad. He had yet to find a purpose for himself, much less try to get fresh air. He loved basketball, heart and soul and he blazed with it every time he met Tanaka. He loved talking about it to her. Describing his old days, his current practices, these times when she would listen and nod, a fragment of the memory of Aoi.

She and Aoi and he loved basketball.

Together, nobody could hold them down. Tanaka sure looked like she missed basketball. If he'd call her to practice, she would stubbornly insist on watching him and telling him that toothless guys didn't and never played basketball with her. Ah, if only he could see her try. Her word playing, her words, her monotony, her basketball passions. He could read it when she would watch him.

The look in her eyes. The slow line on her lips. The same look Mitsui knew he had assumed when he lost his Basketball for a time. He knew it was painful, to be shut down like this. He wanted to fix it so bad. He wanted to break that painful look in her face and tell her to go play basketball again.

Nobody had to hold them down.

After practice, he made a decision. One day, he'd make her smile. He'd throw her the basketball, bouncing to her and tell her to play. Nobody had the right to hold her down.

If her love was basketball, it was a love not for sale. It had to be a mirror, and its reflection had to bounce back to you.

* * *

*-Sa – A verbal suffix assertive men use to show their assertive nature.

*JKA – Japanese Karate Association – the main headquarters of karate where the best students train to be teachers of karate.


	3. Too Hot

**Chapter 3:** Too Hot

* * *

_A mechanism buried inside of you._

-Haruki Murakami, Kafka On The Shore

* * *

_Oh baby very very hot_

_I'm so hot, and I'm so hot. I feel I'm so hot_

Misaki was dancing. Her hips gyrated with the Korean music. Her long and beautiful and wavy blond hair flipped across various directions in the spacious dance room. Her legs were long and sexy. The pout of her lips indicated her feminine and divine power that lauded across the room. The blue orbs shone passionately as the girl twisted her hips, moved her legs and just danced. She jigged gracefully, in a flood of intensity, power and femininity with the pure vivacity of the song she was dancing to. Her lips moved, forming the words, and her facial expressions were the mask of the emotion of the very song. Too hot.

_Hey, Mr. Hey, sister.. Just stay out of the way_

_How is it? Do you want to feel something such as hot so hot?_

Gliding with her body, she was a dancer.

Ami sighed in frustration as she wiped her own face the sweat she got from practicing the warm-ups. Misaki was the best; of course, she had to be. Statuesque, intelligent, athletic. Yamato Nadeshiko in the very truest sense of words. But when she danced, she was an erotic beast of wildness and demurity. It was in Performance Arts Class that this overwhelming side of Misaki would be revealed to everyone – the scandalous dancer who stood above the rest, who gave the performance her everything. The teacher, Hyuga-sensei would always compliment Misaki about how hardworking and graceful she was.

The karateka threw a tomato at Misaki – only to have Misaki swallow it as she danced.

And Ami? She was always being yelled or remonstrated at, humiliated by the teacher. Performance Arts was another road for her to take on on Shohoku. Although Shohoku lauded the excellence of its field teams on Judo and basketball, the Performance Arts were not willing to back out under Hyuga-sensei – and Ami had no idea of that when she signed up for Shohoku.

She wanted the karate, the basketball, the sight of the guy she liked.

Back to the subject of Performance Arts, it was taught by four teachers to the three levels. Miss Hyuga, Sir Hyori, Sir Fukumura, Miss Karura. Sir Hyori was a gentle, nurturing teacher, and he never debuted in the entertainment scene; Sir Fukumura was an ex-dancer and Miss Karura was more into the Health department. Miss Hyuga was one of the strictest teachers in Shohoku – for exercises, she demanded in warm-ups, you danced with pins scattered on the floor to improve concentration and focused competition rather than friendship.

Sounds like someone we know.

Miss Hyuga had given Ami an average grade, but she had told the girl herself that she was supposed to have a _Fuka*_ grade. Why? Ami had barely had any idea why. Was it because she was always chiding Rukawa to wake up in class and thus, lost time practicing? Was it because when she danced, her body was too stiff? Or was it simply because she was always blushing when she was asked to perform?

"Tanaka-kun?" came Hyuga's deep and sultry voice.

_Damn._ Ami stole a look at her own match. Thirty minutes later, she would be all set for lunch with Mitsui. If Miss Hyuga wanted her, then Ami would have to kill her in her mental place – for the next thirty minutes.

"Yes, Hyuga-sensei?" Ami's voice didn't shake.

"I wish to speak to you." She tapped her notebook with one long nail painted jungle red. Her hair was cut in a very short bob cut, showing her long heart-shaped face and pale skin. Her lips were tainted rosy gray, and she had kohl-lined eyes with eyeliner. Her stilettos were not noisy; only when it was quiet enough, you could hear her footsteps. She wore black all the time.

"Is it about my grades?"

"Yes."

"Why did you give me a _Fuka*_, Sensei?" Her voice rose. Her nose twitched.

_Tap. Tap._ From the corner of her eye, Ami could see the window. Someone. Someone was throwing rocks on the window. The Performance Arts room was pretty huge, and it was located on a building, on the second floor of the Annex building, with mirrors, a huge radio. There was even the wooden floor for dancing, for goodness' sakes! Who would be throwing so desperately? As her other eye searched the window, she saw a flicker of a scar, and deep blue eyes and the short and cropped black hair from below. What was _Senpai_ doing here, throwing rocks at the window?

Was he even _**Romeo**_?

"You? An F?" Hyuga-sensei sighed. "It's obvious, Tanaka-kun." She held Ami's chin and tilted it.

"You are too stiff. You are too masculine; you lack the femininity to pull it off. And most of all, you settle for mediocrity. You are too monotone to pass."

Ami blinked.

"You would have been prettier, too. It's such a pity, really." Hyuga sighed dramatically. "You sing, you have a nice voice, and if you loosen up, it would really give you a boost. My subject is to be taken seriously at all times, especially you, of all people. Manager of an exceptional middle school team, and _karateka_. I am disappointed you settle for mediocrity in my subject. You should devote more effort and time and dedication in my subject, if you can. It's also a necessity." Her eyes gleamed the color of onyxes.

"I don't dance." Ami's eyes bored into her teacher's onyx ones. "I can do the warm-ups, I have the agility, but I'm not flexible enough. I don't have a body that's easy to move enough to move my hips. My body is stiff, from karate. It's _**meant**_ to be. I can sing. I can practice. So there."

"You lack something, Tanaka. Not practice." Hyuga was challenging her. "I am challenging you to put extreme effort in the next showcases and projects. Prove to me you have star quality, Tanaka. Prove to me you are worth getting that _Nin* _ grade."

"Exert yourself. It's not that I don't like you, Tanaka."

Ami raised a brow at her teacher.

"You remind me a lot of myself." She waved a hand at her. "Just put more effort. Performance Arts is all about pushing yourself and putting yourself into every word and movement you make. It's the competition; get it?"

Ami nodded.

"What else?"

Hyuga smirked.

"I want you to put your own tweak in an extracurricular dance and song showcase. This is majority of your grade, Tanaka-kun." She handed Ami a CD case. "Try to perfect the two songs in it. Preferably, have someone listen to you. The second song, you will also dance and choreograph it by yourself, and you need the real deal. Costumes. Music. Anything to make it perfect."

For the next five minutes, there was silence. It was silent enough to hear the footsteps. The quick and impatient tapping of a certain Romeo outside, with his roughly textured rocks. The shuffling of long legs, the other students doing their own routines: singing, dancing around, looking at sheet music, playing random instruments. The music of GNA's song 2HOT overwhelmed the whole room – all because of Misaki's excellent dancing and singing.

The song faded, and there was more shuffling of feet.

"ROMEO! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE? BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY, WHO IS YOUR JULIET?!" Misaki was opening the window, putting her pretty head outside of the window, looking for the desperate suitor.

"Really, who is it outside?"

"KYAAAA! HE'S HOOTTTTTT!"

"He's so tall!" faltered a girl.

_Ugh._ Ami wanted to run and yell at her upperclassman to just leave her Performance Arts class alone. He was a friend. Not a stalker. Not her boyfriend. Not her Romeo.

Hyuga-sensei craned her head. There was something sensual and graceful the way she moved. Elegant, but dark and deadly. She had the power and subtlety of a dark beauty, a panther. She held herself firmly, and she was very ladylike but well-reined with her limits. Her eyes were steely onyx mirrors that scanned the window.

Her lips twitched.

Ami tried to imagine what she must have felt. A former gangster third-year sneaking on the Performance Arts class. If it was a girl, then he would pay.

"Mitsui Hisashi," said Hyuga. Her eyes blazed; they were no longer focused on Ami, making Ami feel a bit nervous. She suddenly had the feeling it wasn't the first time Hyuga caught him doing something.

"Mitsui Hisashi, III-3, what are you doing here, disrupting my class?" Her voice was controlled, but powerful. Silky and sultry, and dark. All that she exuded, she suddenly was.

"I'm waiting for someone," came his brusque answer, making Ami bury her face in her palm.

"Is it a girl, _senpai_?" asked Misaki inquiringly.

He was scratching his head and he was looking up at them in the window, surveying the class, as they were viewing him from the open window. Under the sunlight, his scar stood out most of all. The scar he got from the fight with Miyagi, the BandAid Ami had put on him, his cropped hair and the brooding but cocky look on his face that made him a guy desperate to have a good purpose in his life.

He nodded awkwardly, ears pinking.

"So he does have a Juliet," cracked Misaki, smirking. She winked at the other girls. The other girls squealed in enrapturement. The other boys in the room stiffened. This was a former gangster outside. Could they trust him, much less, trust their other classmates in his presence?

_Mitsui Hisashi, I hereby promise to murder you. I will emasculate you and start right at lunch. Firstly, I will kick you a thousand times where the sun won't shine. I'll give you bad food every day, and I'll annoy you every day after school_, Ami mentally growled to herself.

"_Senpai_, who's the lucky girl?" Ever the girl with the biggest balls, Misaki was sure annoying Ami a lot. A lot of people hooted.

Before he could move his mouth, Hyuga quickly shot a sharp look at Misaki, who tossed her hair vainly. The teacher quickly frowned at him.

"You're lucky I didn't rat you out so far for all the times you've skipped and disrupted all the classes I've taught when you were under my tutelage, Hisashi." Her tone was cold. She shook her head. "Next time you want your girlfriend down there, wait for her! Whoever she is, she needs her complete and full attention on _**my**_ subject and only it."

The boy hung his head.

"Sorry, ma'am." Even if he was polite, there was no mistakening it: he was impatient. "My class in PE sure ended early. It was basketball. We're having an early lunch."

"Then don't let it happen again, HISASHI!"

Ami grit her teeth. He was embarrassing her! And this was her most awful subject ever. It ruined her good grades. UGHHHH! She resisted the urge to come to face him and kick him in his balls. It would be awful PR for her and him, too.

The bell rang.

Angrily, Hyuga stalked away, her heels' tapping marking her disappointments for the day.

"Tanaka-kun? Your face is red," commented Misaki.

"I'm fine," Ami growled. This earned looks from the other girls.

"Really? This is the first time I've seen your face make so much emotion!"

Scowling, Ami took her towel, her jacket, the CD and water jug. Speed-walking with frustration down the building, she felt her face was on fire.

_Damn Mitsui to the pits of hell_, she thought, her heart racing. Damned to the deepest cantos where the philosophers resided. The cantos of Dante Alighieri – reading them wasn't for nothing. He would be placed somewhere far from the philosophers. He would be near the fortunetellers damned never to see again. As far as she was concerned, he deserved to die there.

* * *

Who the hell was Romeo? Who was Juliet? How were they even related? Were they brother and sister? Were they cousins, intertwined by fate? Or were they just random idiots who ran off with each other?

Whatever it was, it made Tanaka blush. She was sitting beside him under the cherry blossom tree, eyeing a CD case as she ate her boxed lunch. Her skin was pretty, but it got prettier whenever she blushed. The small rosy fire that lit her skin made her look prettier, and much more appealing to the male population. Her skin glowed from the effort she exerted in Performing Arts.

"I pity you. Hyuga's a troublesome teacher."

Tanaka stared at him, her robotic expression making him smile at her.

"She…is, kinda. She gave me a _Nin_ grade when it was really supposed to be _Fuka._ She told me herself my grade was supposed to be a _fuka_. Misaki says that I'm lucky; it's unheard of that that woman gives _nin_ grades when the grades are meant to be _fuka_ from the very start."

That Hyuga… gave Tanaka a _Nin_ grade, when it was supposed to be a _Fuka_? Unheard of! He'd heard that Akagi even had to get voice lessons for a while outside of school just to pass and top the Performance Arts courses. As far as that Performance Art teacher got, she was a pretty strict one who implemented FOCUS in every second of her subject, as well as effort. Mitsui never exerted much effort in the subject; he couldn't even sing nor dance, just say stuff that he called rap in an effort to please her before he left basketball. But the enigmatic and hotheaded Tanaka was actually passing when she wasn't supposed to be – another mystery!

"And what does she want now?"

Tanaka set her food aside, and unzipped her jacket. Her white shirt underneath was wet with perspiration and loose. She stared at him with curious eyes, handing a CD. She was wearing loose jogging pants.

"Do you have a proper player?"

"Hmmm – here." He tossed her his small stereo. It was a small keepsake he had from his older, happier days. Quickly, the girl plugged the stereo to the nearby connector and put the CD inside to play. Techno music started to play. Korean techno.

_I am the Best  
I am the Best  
I am the Best  
I am the Best  
Th-th-the Best_

_Bam Ratatata Tatatatata  
Bam Ratatata Tatatatata  
Bam Ratatata Tatatatata  
Bam Ratatata Tatatatata  
Oh my god_

Wordlessly, Tanaka spun and started to dance. At the start of the beat, her hips started to sway. By the end of the first stanza, she was waving her hands, and she was another person. She was a goddess, rough, but willing to trailblaze her efforts. The swaying of her hips, the movement of her legs, the effort on her waist to move smoothly without being too defensive, it made her a student of art.

She was something. Something that seemed less than Misaki Akashi, her own classmate who got the highest grades in her Performance Arts classes, who was quite an imposing figure in Shohoku. But something that could propel herself as someone bigger than life itself.

The hothead continued to sway, her expression robotic and calm. She wasn't perfect; her moves sometimes were too stiff and the aura she armed herself with was inconsistent. Nonetheless, it seemed that she was trying to put effort in her moves, and that was something he had never seen her do.

Tanaka frowned at him as the song ended and her dance paused. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I never saw you dance."

"I suck, right?"

He shook his head. "No. I don't think so, Tanaka. I think you can sing too. You're not bad. You look good when you dance or sing. Just don't be too monotone. Maybe I can help."

"The great ex-MVP helping me dance?!"

"Yep; I've got nothing better to do, Tanaka."

Her eyes flashed with the challenge.

"FINE!" She pouted. "But I have a price."

"What is it?"

"If you still don't get your teeth fixed, I'll seriously, seriously, won't let you help me. I won't help you improve your stamina. And I'll give you old man's food for the rest of the time we hang out." She smirked. "Look at your face, Toothless. If you don't get a wife by the time you're supposed to all because of your teeth, don't come crying to me." Her teeth flashed.

"If I don't get a wife," he jested lightly, with the undertones of exasperation, "then you'll be the only girl left. If I don't, then maybe I'll make you mine."

She scowled.

"No, no. Besides, you have horrible teeth. What if it's hereditary?" She fake-mocked him. "What will the children look like?"

"Very funny, Tanaka. If that happens, then I'll marry you."

"Har-har," she snorted.

One thing he was sure of: the others were comparing him and Tanaka to Romeo and Juliet. Better ask Kogure.

"Who's Romeo and Juliet?"

Kogure tossed him the ball, with merry kind eyes. He shook his head at amusement. Why was he asking him such a thing?

"Why are you asking?"

"The other freshmen said I was Romeo…and Tanaka was my Juliet."

At this statement, both Miyagi and Sakuragi started to guffaw loudly. Some of Rukawa's cheerleaders giggled. Ayako even stifled a chuckle. And from his seat, Mitsui could hear his mentor's unstifled laughter, the special Santa Claus chuckle that made you think of Buddha in his Samsara and Nirvana.

"Really, I'm not kidding!"

Kogure exchanged a glance with Akagi.

"Romeo and Juliet were…"

"Were what?"

"Were starcrossed lovers. They committed suicide just to be with each other."

He broke off into unexpected laughter. "ME? And Tanaka? I can't imagine it! We'd never kill ourselves! It's highly unlikely!" He pointed to his mouth. "She even calls me Toothless all the time!"

Akagi sighed formally.

"Well… That's good to know," he managed. Behind him, Miyagi and Sakuragi continued guffawing until they were flooded in their own tears.

Despite his loud laughter, he had to admit to himself, the thought of the robotic and monotonic, hothead Tanaka killing herself just for him amused him. It appealed to him, too.

* * *

"Get your teeth fixed." Hotta smirked, and threw his cigarette to the ground. "If you really want her to help you, then do it. It's worth the money." The two third-years had gone to the arcades after a rare basketball practice that did not feature Tanaka's uniform face of robotic expressions. Hotta had bought them a pack or two of cigarettes and were outside the arcade building. While playing and smoking, he had confided to his dark-skinned friend about the girl he talked to in the breaks.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, she's a hard one to get, Mit-kun. I've tried hardwiring everyone I know about her. She's interesting, too. Not bad to look at. Always punched boys who tried chasing after her. More of a boy than a girl." Hotta glanced at him thoughtfully. "Where is she now, anyway? Shame I don't meet her. I _**want**_ to meet her. She sounds good to me."

Mitsui sighed.

"She said she had other commitments and had three hours practice somewhere else." He glanced at the unlit cigarette in his hand and frowned. Tanaka would kill him if she knew this. Shoot. "Shoot!"

"What?"

"She'd kill me if she knew about this!" The cigarette slipped to the ground.

"You must really like her, then." He chuckled. "Liked her enough to tell her you'd marry her." Hotta was already smirking like a schoolboy.

"HEY! It was just a joke."

"You still said it, you know."

Hotta shook his head.

The sound of the footsteps were the next sounds he heard. Tap. Tap, and went away the sound which would later make him and Hotta sweat.

"Someone's coming!"

Quickly, the two boys dashed into a desertd alcove, straining to see who was coming.

A girl, with bouncing hair and long legs, her eyes shining a bright indigo, and speed-walking feistily in a way that turned off guys. She wore a large white sweater that had a beige brown chibi owl design in the bodice, and horizontal black stripes on the sleeves over gray leggings. On her shoes, she wore casual white Converse sneakers. Her skin glowed, and she looked neat.

She played with her digital cellphone, her face robotic.

Was it Tanaka?

"There you are," chided a tall boy, catching up to her. He was breathless, and had gelled up hair. He was about a year or two older than the girl, and he wore a green basketball varsity jacket that looked awkward with his red button-down shirt and white shirt underneath. He smelt of shaving cream and mint, in an effort to see this cute girl who seemed to be waiting for him.

"Of course, I'm here." Her voice was monotone.

"Is that –"

Mitsui shot Hotta an impatient look.

Her hair was combed and cleaned. Her hair was even permed, and tied and worn in a French braid that made her feminine.

"Well? Are you just gonna go stare at me?"

The tall guy coughed.

"Sorry, Ami-chan," he managed, his cheeks suddenly aflame. "I was in a hurry to see you! If you're hungry, tell me. I'll take you out anywhere you like. The guys wanted to see you, too, but –" He grabbed hold of the girl's arm.

The girl raised a brow and lifted her chin.

_Ami-chan._

Mitsui focused on the girl. She looked weirdly familiar, and very distant in this new appearance.

"I'm not hungry," she stated. This time, her sentence ended with a –sa.

Shit.

Tanaka was going out with someone already? And she didn't even tell him? A part of him wanted to thrash out why she never told him. They were friends, right? If they were, why didn't she?! He deserved to guard her from this guy, who seemed totally goo-goo eyes for her. You never knew, he wanted her too badly. Never mind; maybe he was a stalker.

"You've gotten fatter," the guy said –

Tanaka's eyes dimmed.

"Excuse me?!"

The guy was at a loss for words. He looked like a lumbering oaf next to her. It was obvious he was crazy about her.

_How troublesome._ Why did Tanaka even agree to this date? He didn't deserve her! She deserved better! While Mitsui thought that in a scenario like this, Miyagi and Hanamichi would use this chance to humiliate the guy and mock him, Mitsui felt a torn impulse to either laugh or just watch. Tanaka didn't even have a clue he was here; she was probably thinking he was at his house, but honestly, it felt suffocating.

Wait. Was he actually _**jealous**_ of a guy Tanaka never talked to him about?

Did he get her bento? Did he taste her cooking? Did he even savour the sound of her monotone voice and the way she did robotic countenances on her pretty face? Whoever he was, he sure seemed both lucky and unlucky.

Life was such a cruel bitch.

When he watched the two of them leave, away from the arcades, and down to the district with noticeable love hotels and adult stores, he felt something.

"So that's her." Hotta's eyes lit up. "Not bad. She's really cute. Nice long legs, and pretty indigo eyes. Luminous skin."

Mitsui could tell the guy was drooling.

"Hey, touch her and you're dead meat."

"Ahh, you really like her, don't you! I can't wait to tell Tetsuo! Our little Mit-chan's in looovvvee!"

"Shut it, Hotta."

He had to get his teeth fixed.

* * *

_Imagine yourself as a fifteen years old boy. You are full of hopes and dreams. You love basketball._

_That was Tahno Okeda._

_He sleeps in the hospital bed, unconscious. The colorless string that binds him between reality and dreams is intact. No one has attempted to cut it off. He has separated himself from life and what is not. White walls waver over him, block him from the flood of Reality. When he wakes up inside the white room, he sees the white daisies put by the devoted nurse, but he overlooks the pink rose that has just come by, a touch of Spring to the Winter where he hides and hibernates in. _

_When he leaves the white room, he comes across the wavy and stringy views of a whitewashed world. The sun bathes everything in lack of color. Even the smells and sights here lack the vivacity and order of before as well as the notorious and differentiating little odor. To sum it all up, it is a world in a few blankets of sentences and a word._

_Tahno gets up in his washed-out world. He fails to see the blanched lack of things. He is drowned by the uniformity of the colors in this new environment and habitat. This is 6 am, he sees, and it is time to do __**that.**_

_Quickly, the boy sneaks out of the hospital._

_When the nurse enters his room, her screams are enough to break crystal. He is gone and absconded, leaving behind a dummy to take his place on the mattress. She considers tracking his home address. As the nurse and the doctor scurry to find the impatient boy who'd gotten in because of a basketball injury, there is nothing else more overlooked than the stranger of blue who trespasses this immaculate white world with another mark on the flower vase: a new bud of color. _

_The blue person has left another pink rose for Tahno's own honor._

_But Tahno was practicing and playing basketball illegally. Outside of his hospital room Outside of the messy gloom. _

_He still fails to see that he has not physically left the White Room and the White World and let his everything get blanched. _

_Tahno Okeda has forgotten and is forgotten. Outside, the real world waits for him. He lives in a fairy tale dominated by black and white._

"Murakami much?" Misaki teased.

* * *

"Oh, just shut up," Ami pouted as she closed the notebook. "I wrote it in First Year. Suwabe-sensei wanted to have it rewritten, within the school year. He wanted to see more development. He compared it to Murakami." The karateka shuddered. "And he even asked on who Tahno is based on, too."

When he had his teeth fixed, he also heard Misaki discussing and dissecting a story that was a lot like Murakami's style in writing. When he had his teeth fixed, he heard of rumors circulating that Tahno Okeda was based on a middle school basketball star of before, from others. Rumors flooded about Misaki, and others.

Tahno Okeda, he was sure he had heard the name before.

From Aoi, who told him of his imaginations and musings, sometimes.

_Tahno's very bright and determined, I find him too interesting to try not to write about_, he had claimed.

But when he saw Tanaka's robotic face melt at seeing teeth, he forgot most of it. She had grinned. She smiled.

She let the air play with her long brown locks and let the bells of her voice grace the spring wind.

That time, it seemed easy to imagine her as someone he could had, even if it were a joke.

Except it was really no joke.

* * *

_Fuka*_ - In the Japanese school grading system, _Fuka_ is the lowest grade you get. It is worse than mediocre. F is their equivalent grade, while in my school NCF-NF (Needs Closer Follow-Up to Needs Follow-Up).

_Nin*_ - This is the passing grade in the Japanese equivalent grading system. Their typical equivalent grade is C, and in my school, S-G (Satisfactory – Good).


	4. The Lost Ball

**Chapter 4: The Lost Ball**

* * *

_The cherry blossoms dance, falling into my empty hand  
Ephemeral, gentle, and fragile, this flower that seems like you._

_That child who slips through the gates as usual  
His eyes sparkling as he grabs ahold of something._

_And as for me, my empty days go on  
And with a frozen heart, I close my eyes looking for the moment when the flowers would bloom._

_The cherry blossoms, it flutters down, on my hand where there is nothing  
Fleeting and gentle, I'm afraid it might break, the flower that is just like you._

_I put away the dirtied spike deep inside my heart  
You are searching for the the Spring's escape route, saying, "This is good enough."_

_aren't you?_

-Sakura Addiction, KHR-

* * *

"Mitsui-kun, you have a girlfriend?" asked Tanaka, sipping playfully on the milkshake the scarred senior had given her for today.

Today was an uneventful morning – the middle of April, and schoolwork was all fine. He neglected his studies as usual, but came regularly mostly on Anzai and Tanaka's sakes. However, he would rather die than admit it was Tanaka's fault he came to school on a regular basis. He had heard from Hotta, who admired her silently and worshipped the rumours she acted on account of. He'd hear how her footsteps made sounds on the marble and alabaster floor, her face robotic and twisted, the mechanism of instinct visible as a lawyer passing his perfume of pure justice. She sniffled and sniffed him on the school grounds, always harassing the other third years if he didn't go to school. And today, he had spotted her jogging, passing his house as casual as a fighter in his Muay Thai jogging.

He had chased after her, trying to catch a glimpse of her. For some reason, the sight of her wearing an oversized shirt, and sports shorts, a baseball cap put in one head, her hair tied up in a sporty ponytail, her training shoes as fast as she came and the most enticing sight: the exposure of her long legs, which he wanted to get a better look at. It turned him on.

When she had finally seen him trying to chase after her, her robotic expression was always there. It twisted, it scowled and then her mouth twisted to tell him that his hell training was starting now. Fifty push-ups, ten laps and thirty minutes of training later, the two had stopped at a nearby café to rest. The café was known for its milk tea and he decided to buy ahead because he was so thirsty and without asking permission, proceeded to buy another cup of tea, for Tanaka, obligingly. In between the push-ups, he had almost given out, had it been for the heavenly intervention of Tanaka yelling at him.

"Excuse me, Tanaka-kun?" His words came out so casually teasing. That little –sa quirk of hers had prompted him to address her teasingly as a boy, although it was obvious she was a pretty feminine creature of God knew what.

"I was wondering, do you have a girlfriend?"

"Idiot," he muttered.

"I heard that," she fired back, raising her brow. "Anyway, just answer my question, for the love of _**Gori**_!"

Mitsui snickered, amused by her fire.

"Fine, I don't."

"What a pity," she replied, rubbing her nose and taking another small sip of milk tea. "I figured you never were the type to chase after girls, you know. You're good-looking, you're tall, you're polite… It seems odd that you're single. But you're not like Rukawa, you know. You're much more different, more suave, I should say. He's a block of ice melting in a pool far and away from here. "

"So you're saying? You lost me."

"I said, you might be single, but you're not like Rukawa."

"What makes you think in such a way then, Tanaka-kun?"

"It's just you two are similar, but your dynamic is different. You two are born to play basketball, geniuses without practice and you are very dedicated to the sport. The girls like Rukawa, but he doesn't pay attention to them." Her eyes narrowed. "No girl goes for you; they run away and you let them do it. You must be a man who only loves basketball."

"Very true."

As he spoke, he smiled at her, admiring the monotone way she held her head in a timid but feminine way.

_But more than that_.

She looked away from him, her eyes reflecting something very familiar: the thoughtful shade of the endless indigo, the color of twilight, of the hope he wanted to grasp one day, the power and the savoring flavor of triumph on his tongue as juicy as the feeling he had whenever he played. Above them, the slow waver of falling pink firework petals flowed down the pavement.

"Tanaka?"

She didn't flinch, not bothering to look.

Her eyes were fixed on the sakura.

One unblooming petal landed on her outretched palm.

"…Tanaka?"

She spun, her hair wild and frizzing. There was a faraway look to her indigo-colored eyes, her cheeks palish pink and rosy with the ravishing of a girl who got thrust in a world where the ground was hard to walk in and was cracking into liquid beneath her feet.

"Do you know…"

He fell silent, for she was speaking to him, dazed and wild. Some nyad or even a yokai mayhap possessed her, for in the gentle breeze did she revel. She closed her eyes tight, her face pale and less robotic to the point it was softer-looking in the twilight of tainted pain and wistfulness. The sky was a pale fresh sky blue that illuminated the very newness of the sea, the spirits and the water and the twilight.

"…that the speed for cherry blossoms to fall is actually five centimeters?"

Her voice suddenly changed; it was more natural and something less feminine. Bright and rough like the texture of basketball. Her voice was a familiar echo of the past.

"Tanaka"-he struggled to find the right words without being so rude-"are you okay?"

She blinked and bit her lip.

"Sorry." She blinked again. "I forgot myself is all." Putting a hand over her sweaty face, she forced a gritty robotic countenance. "I have to go now; I need to study."

"I thought you always studied on Fridays. Even weekends, too, Miss Studious."

"All but PA."

Ah, Miss Hyuga.

She ran off, that run that reminded him of another day almost two lifetimes ago, when the same sakura fell and the same string of words that let loose from lips and the familiar shade of indigo shone.

* * *

_Aoi waited under the sakura tree, the pink petals falling down. Indigo eyes shone and neatly combed hair was tossed a bit by the playful wind. A waiting teenager with the air of a rough almost boyish way, as well as the hints of being androgynous. After all, the basketball team manager had to admit, girls chased for such presence. The charisma that exuded, the gentle manners and the good looks – every girl liked them and they were crazy for it. _

_It was their mechanism, the Takeishi Middle school basketball team manager deducted, to do so. After all, Haruki Murakami had written such a truth. A mechanism is inside our bodies, a result of our evolution and growth as people who adapt to science and the wonders of the metaphysical union of Biology and Philosophy. A man's response. _

_Blaring in those pale ears were the lyrics of a song._

I'm so fast

Mr. Taxi, Mr. Taxi…

_What a worldly song. _

_It was not a song Aoi liked to listen to. Aoi had preferred songs from Supercell, Ikimono Gakari. Songs that talked of the bleakness of life, how short it was, the Zenbonzakura spirit of art lifting in the chords and the harmony of the art of music and the rhythmic cadences produced. _

_Come on, Mitsui-senpai._

_He finally came, all grins and sweat, typical clueless cheerful captain and as well as a certified idiot when it came to academics. Aoi worked hard to keep him grounded, as the manager. It was Aoi who had told the player to work harder on his academics._

"_Aoi-kun!"_

_Aoi nodded politely._

"_Look I wanted to talk you," Aoi stated, indigo eyes flashing._

"_Is it about my grades?"_

"_Uh-" Aoi blushed._

"_If it is, then I told you, I passed with about seventy percent out of hundred percent from the test we had last Monday. Good thing you had those reviews. It really feels like déjà vu now that I do think about it…"_

"_S-Senpai-"_

"_What?"_

"_Are you even listening?"_

_Aoi's voice rose._

"_I said I wanted to talk you, and it's no laughing matter. It is absolutely serious, Senpai."_

_The player widened his eyes._

"_Well?" he pressed._

_Aoi blushed._

"_I- I wanted to say that I-"_

"_That you?"_

"_I-I-"_

_Aoi blushed._

"_I LIKE YOU!" the manager blurted._

* * *

"Why such in a hurry, Tanaka?"

"What's with Tanaka?"

"She does seem to be in quite a hurry today."

"I saw her see off one of those basketball players."

"I saw her too, alright. She appears to be quite a Xanthippe, actually. I saw her pull his hair and slap him and tell him to man up. Poor man."

"Wonder if he'd fight back."

"I think no."

"I think that player likes her."

"Wonder if they do go out."

"I never knew she could be like that."

"I'm used to her being so monotone. I never realized she is full of fire sometimes."

Such were the whispers of the student body as Ami raced down from her classroom, bag, a change of clothes, ticket and cellphone in hand as soon as the bell had rung, ignoring Hyuga-sensei's stoic and foxlike face twitch in her hurry to leave the PA class. Evidently, the students were surprised at the hurry on her robotic face, as she pulled out her phone and texted and ran, a tangle of long pale legs, long and fluffy curling brown hair, wide wild indigo eyes ablaze with new wonder for all about to happen, a girl running away from the hellhole of Performance Arts class.

Dammit.

"Hey! Chill!" Misaki called.

"I need to go!"

"Why?!"

"I HAVE to watch Shohoku play!"

"Oh, you like Rukawa?"

"HELL NO!"

Ami grinned.

"I just have to watch; I miss basketball."

"AH!" Misaki's eyes dilated. "You…LOVE basketball? I never knew it!"

"Yeah!"

Her chest was on fire, breaking all the ice domes and castles that rose from its numbness. She felt she was alive, and that the spring breathed in her. It was so rare of her to feel like she was a girl of fire and earth. For so long, she was a trapped nymph in ice and wind and water, under the frozen sakura trees. She would set everything on fire. She would make everything alive. Light the candle and set everything on the hot water zone. Basketball… She had loved it, and now she was with it again.

"Anyway, Misa-chan, I have to go!"

Waving, Ami rushed to change her clothes in the girls' comfort room. A pair of gray leggings and a wide light yellow hoodie with an owl design over her shirt. She had slipped on ballerina flats, colored beige to make it neutral. She knew Mitsui had gotten accustomed to the feminine color palette she dressed in. He knew her that way best and she would have to go watch.

_I'm going to watch a Shohoku High game. I'll be back in about 8-9._

_-Ami_

_P.S. I'll also be eating out. _

With a flourish, she sent the text message to her mother. Her mother and father had imposed on her a quick new curfew: nine o' clock, as seeing as how their daughter had grown accustomed to the wide geography of the Kanagawa prefecture. It was the Manila of the region, their dear prefecture, modern and bustling, haunted by the dawn and twilight and the aftermath of the darkness of the night. As a child, her parents had spent time getting her to memorize and know the prefecture and its parts like the back of her hand. They trusted her with the responsibility not to go smoking, go in love hotels with some guy they didn't know, and trusted her to manage by herself when they usually left for trips and vacations, taking it as a chance to make her learn independence.

They were a nice couple: old Ayumi and Mizuki Tanaka. Ayumi was a former model, and he was a naïve writer and painter making his pay off art commissions and writing short stories for both love and the need to earn money to live. One day, he had been working in her father's house, and he had decided to have her sit for him. He was timid and scared of her intelligence and spirit but intrigued by her beauty. Nonetheless, the two were attracted to each other.

Anyway, a month later, Ayumi was found drunk by Mizuki, and for a while, he watched over and fell in love with her. In the end, they got married.

Her brother, Shusei was the result of their union, and a few years later, her, Ami.

As for Miss Hyuga, Miss Hyuga might as well have to go burn in hell where she belonged. Urgh.

The thought of Hyuga made her wince as she ran all the way to the official stadium to watch her friend play.

"WATCH WHERE YOU'RE GOING!" A frantic taxi driver called out in frustration. He was evidently flustered by the haste of some local high school girl running in a boy's speed, pushing herself, not going to take a taxi to run to the stadium.

"I'm in a hurry!" she had yelled back, and ran as quickly as possible.

Her belly was on fire. Her belly had been full of butterflies. The excitement of ten men surged in her system, exciting her. Horses rode in her head, willing for her excitement to take over herself and become her. As her feet jumped and her hair flew, she was really wishing that she wore sneakers and had short hair, missing her middle school days when she was more popular and her indigo eyes were the most beautiful pair of eyes in school, when she was happier, she was more extraverted, less inclined to anger, and more focused on happiness and chasing it, the starlight in her hands.

Trains sped by. Time was a vulture, and in the end, her feet had suffered. It took more leg muscles and puffing around to reach the stadium. Taxis got angry at her. They beeped and poked her with their lights and she had snapped, showing the angry face that scared first years into not chasing after her for her beauty only out of the anger she was truly capable of.

Sweating, she entered the court, her face messy, and hair tousled from running. Her braids were loosening, a fat end resting on her shoulder, her clothes sweaty from the running and heat.

_Toothless, where are you?_ She wondered as she took a seat in the front row. Coincidentally, she was going to take a seat beside Hanamichi Sakuragi's gang, and the sweet little Akagi girl, Haruko-san. Ayako was on the court, doing her duty. Coach Anzai smiled at her, and gave her a polite nod, to which she nodded stoically, in order that Toothless would not yell at her in public and the need to beat him up carouse.

"Excuse me, can I take this seat?"

Youhei raised a brow and poked Haruko on her shoulder, gently, as a man would. "Hey, someone's asking to take the seat next to you."

"Who is it?" called another guy, who was as fat as an oversized panda bear.

Youhei's face paled.

"It's Tanaka Ami," he mouthed.

The gang gawked at Ami, while Haruko grinned.

"I just need a seat. I came here to watch someone. Someone who I ought to be beating up, actually. I just want to keep him straight. He needs to man up, either way."

"Then feel free to."

"Is he playing?"

"Yes."

Haruko side-glanced at her, her eyes luminous with concern. She parted her lips, worried and convinced. She was trying to read her, Ami mentally wagered. A girl in love.

"So you must really care for him, then, ne?"

Ami sighed.

"It's not a love relationship. It's just that we're friends. Platonic friends. No hard feelings, just friends."

Haruko sent her a puzzled look.

"We annoy each other is all."

"…Oh. What jersey is he wearing?"

"Number Fourteen."

At the same moment, Toothless looked around for, trying to find her. He looked at her, grinned, showing his white teeth, and _**winked**_.

That moment, Ami wanted to attack him till his balls were useless.

* * *

"So you did come, after all, huh, Tanaka?" he teased her, ruthless, poking a Pocky into her mouth cheerfully.

Across the clear glass window that divided the restaurant and the outside world, cars drove by. The rain fell over, a piece of heavenly wet manna that left glistens on the surfaces of cars, rooftops, and streets, flooding in some areas that gathered. In front of the two teenagers sat a package of Pocky flavored chocolate with almond pieces, two Value Meals: a big Mac and a regular-sized Chicken McDo coupled with French fries.

"I had to, so I could keep you in line," Tanaka drawled, monotonous as usual. Her wide eyes were fixed on him in a way that mystified him.

"I can be in line, you do know that," he replied.

Tanaka pushed the Pocky stick from her mouth with one strong hand. "You don't seem to be. You are as stubborn as a pig. Men are too predictable."

"I never said I was, either way, Tanaka."

Mitsui unwrapped the cover of his Big Mac.

"Hanamichi-teme did his worst. He ought to be the Foul-Out King. He is talented, but very arrogant. Such a bad temper, really."

"Says the girl who gets angry because her grades aren't always perfect."

"Shut up. We are different people. We get angry because of different settings, backgrounds and such. I assure you, I am a better than that redhead. He is no player, he is a monkey."

"As you are no girl, but a monotone little robot."

She scowled.

"Shut up. I can't believe I came to watch some guy screw up his way and you exert yourself. It was a little boring. I'm leaving already," Tanaka declared, rising up. Mitsui's eyes flew to look at her, trying to see any new changes. What was she wearing? A long pink dress with checkered red polo over it, buttoned and belted with a beige belt. Leggings and boots, girly-looking.

"Hey!"

He grabbed her wrist.

She scowled once again.

"Please! Eat! Come on, you look so skinny, it's frightening! Maybe it's why no guy chases after you at all! You get so dizzy sometimes, plus you need to eat first! After all, I'd wager you told your parents that you'd be home a little late. Well, they deserve to know that when you go home, you're full from eating and well, aren't you?"

Tanaka frowned and took her seat again. Mitsui pushed her food towards her: the Pocky and the Value Meal.

"Eat."

"Stop it," Tanaka hissed lowly, her paleness getting the better of herself. "I don't wanna eat at all!"

"I said, EAT."

"I told you I don't want to! I'm not a slave!"

"Eat. One of these days, you might get sick. If you look a little fatter, I mean, guys might actually pay you attention."

"I have enough guys running after me."

"A girl like you needs to have guys watching over you, or at least needs to have a few guys running after you. You are need interaction with other people. Eat. The food won't bite you."

"I won't and I won't!"

"Just listen to me!"

"I will not eat; I will not hear you speak. I will not eat; therefore speak no more*."

He scowled once again.

"Please. I can't take it, okay?" His voice was hurt, and he was trying to mask the pain he felt. It angered him to know how badly she was treating herself, how she refused to eat, how her stubbornness murdered her spirit. "Eat!"

"Why are you asking me to?"

"Because… Because you're my friend. I certainly won't tolerate it. You push yourself too much. If you want to be skinny, you're skinny enough!"

Her eyes pinned him, that creepy indigo.

"Just please…don't just stand there and get hungry and eventually die."

Tanaka. Shook. Her. Head. One yellow and oily French fly jumped from the tissue to fingers, held in a pale hand, and lifted to a rosy pair of lips. She took a small bite, dainty and pallid, all quiet. She munched quietly on the French fry, her eyes tender and tough as steel.

"See? I am eating."

He sighed with evident relief.

* * *

_Two meetings with Aoi before the fateful last day with the sakuras, he remembered talking with Aoi on the way home. He was close to Aoi, close to this guy who was chased by most of the girls, yet he paid no attention. His most charming trait in physical form was his eyes, like the water that flowed from the river to meet the sea, and in spirit, it was his spirit itself: kind, warm and tough, although flawed by lack of attention to girls, lack of interest in all things, imperfection in the department of being average in a few aspects. _

"_You'll write to me, won't you, Aoi-kun?"_

"_Tsk. If I even have the time."_

_Aoi scowled, then grinned his sweet and shy smile. "Besides, you'll be leaving. I'll be staying. We could well, just move on, but with a word or two for a while, you know. I will probably go to high school somewhere nearby. You, you go to Shohoku. I think it'll do you so well."_

"_I'm glad you think so!"_

"_Coach Anzai would take good care of you." Aoi bit his lip. "I'm actually quite relieved. I think you'll flourish very well. I just wish you'd be more disciplined with study."_

_He laughed, a boy in his golden years. "You really sound like an old man, Aoi-kun! You have so much to say, and you even worry so much about me!" He grabbed Aoi's arm manfully, making the cute boy's eyes widen in alarment. "I'll tell you what, Aoi-kun! We'll meet in Saturday under the sakura tree where we always eat under, and we'll bring letters, me to you and you to me, then we'll bury those letters in a time capsule under the sakura tree! After a year when you'll be graduating and I'm in Shohoku, then we'll read these letters!"_

_Aoi smiled nervously._

* * *

"Tahno is a well-faceted character, Miss Tanaka," Suwabe-sensei admitted. "He's very human, very flawed, yet at the core, very much a human. You make him so human to the point I feel as if you and I know him. His development is quite good, considering your age and the effect. I'm impressed by your narration. Usually, students your age just hurry the story with a lot of typos and grammatical mistakes. I see a bit where you write from, my dear."

Ami nodded politely.

"You know your grammar, you have less errors, and your narration is good. Traces of Murakami, in fact. I bet you've read them a lot. I can't stop you from enjoying his work; I like them myself. _Kafka On The Shore, Dance Dance Dance, _and my personal favorite: _After Dark_. I see the resemblance from _After Dark_ and _Kafka On The Shore_; you really do explore the alienation, isn't it? But really, I am curious and I want to help you improve this story." The thin teacher pinched the eight pages of Tahno's story and pointed to it. "What are you really trying to show off here? What alienation, I mean, from whom? Why does Akashi act strange around him, and vice-versa?"

Ami did not retract from her teacher's big questions. She could handle it, she knew she could. For a girl who let her voice yell in anger all the time, taking questions from a tough teacher was something she did fine, for the exception of the annoyingly strict Miss Hyuga. She was a fighter, a karateka. She had trained Mitsui a bit and pushed him to do better, and she had beaten some gangsters on their manhoods. Besides, Tahno was a fine topic to divert her head into.

"Akashi-chan likes Tahno. She's tired of not being noticed as a love interest by Tahno himself. Although she does like Tahno and cares for him, she is not above getting irritated by him. Akashi's not scared of him, Akashi is plain scared of Tahno discarding their friendship by her own feelings for him," Ami explained. Inwardly, she felt really relieved. At last, a thing she could answer intelligently.

"But why is Tahno also acting weird? The way he protects and thinks about her and looks at her, the promises he remembers. Akashi is practically his tie to his environment. If they were both males, it'd be a pretty strong friendship."

Ami said nothing. At this, the teacher smiled coyly and shook his head in amusement. "I better confirm it, can I? It seems to me, that our little Tahno-kun cares for Akashi more than a friend, and might even reciprocate her feelings, that he is not sure how to express them and if he doubts the existence of such emotions for her."

The silence suddenly hugged the classroom. For now, it occurred just out of the blue how close to the truth what Suwabe-sensei had declared, his answer to his curiosity.

"Why would you say so, Suwabe-sensei?"

"Everything. It hints to this. Unless you have a counterexample."

Ami didn't react. She gestured for the papers to be given to her. Her teacher eventually complied and he handed the sheets of one story, slipping it into her fingers as silently as a boat sails on a still evening when storms are solemnly far away. Counterexample, huh? It sounded a word for Geometry; in fact, it was, a counterexample, for proof and theory to be proven. With this knowledge and a few gathered thoughts in her head, she lifted her mane of hair and gaped politely at her respected English teacher.

"Let me think about it."

* * *

He watched her dance, choreograph during lunch time; it amused him. She pretended he wasn't her friend. She pretended that she was CL of 2NE1 or Minzy, any of those badass and hot girls in those edgy Korean techno music videos who sang of Asians who rose from the sun and ran this town.

While he watched, sometimes his eyes read the bunch of papers she made him hold whenever she danced. The stories she wrote for that old geezer, Suwabe-sensei, that old mentor who spoke English and had a wide palate of English words that sounded so deep they were beyond the land he treaded on, for the subject English, one subject that he was neutral about. He knew Suwabe was supposed to be teaching the Third Year, but really, he was assigned to Tanaka's year, for some reason.

Today, she was stretching, after a strenuous warm-up. Out of the blue, she jumped, her tedious lumps of hair following her every action. They joined her obstinacy and over the air, she stretched out her arms, beads of sweat trying to block his eyes from viewing her. Her legs, clad in loose jogging pants, separated. She lifted her arms to the great heavens and she tried a countenance that was fierce.

Then she landed on the ground, her legs separated mercilessly on the land.

"….OUCH!"

"Excuse me, Tanaka?"

She hissed furiously. Her hands groped for the nearest person, which happened to be him. Her hands were warm and gripped him tight.

"Hey, what's the problem, Tanaka?"

Her face creased. "OUGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHH."

"What the hell is your problem?"

She slapped him.

"I broke my hymen, you dumbass," she growled.

…

"…. What's a hymen?"

Limping, she got up and ran away, seeming really pissed and offended for some reason.

"Kogure-san, Ayako-san, I have a question for you two."

The two Shohoku students smiled at him. The three were at the library, during lunch the day after Tanaka ran away from him away.

"Well, is it girl trouble?" Ayako snickered. "If it's Tanaka, well, I suggest you go date her! She's absolutely single!"

Kogure chuckled. "Well?"

"Well, Tanaka said something to me that I didn't understand. She said she broke something…"

"And?" Ayako fired back sassy as ever.

"What's a hymen?"

Silence. Ayako looked like she was dying to laugh. Kogure paled and flushed then paled again.

"What's a hymen?" he echoed.

"It's… "

"AHHH, I bet YOU broke Tanaka's, did you?!" whispered Ayako, incredulous. "In a love hotel-"

"Excuse me, I didn't!" Mitsui hit a copy of Encyclopedia Brittanica with his hand. "She split on the grass while practicing some Korean dance moves and then she really looked like in pain. She told me she broke her hymen."

Kogure handed him a thick Biology textbook.

"Read it; you might know," he said sincerely. "I've marked the pages, and I've put notes there; Akagi-san borrowed it last year. I was about to donate these to the library, but you need it."

"T-Thanks, I guess."

* * *

When Mitsui got home, he immediately got to the pages that Kogure had immediately marked so he could understand it.

By the time he was done reading, his face was flushing a violent red.

* * *

* - This is actually Ami quoting Shylock in Merchant of Venice, where Antonio pleads for mercy, and Shylock states he will not listen to his pleads.


	5. Tokyo Skyscraper

Chapter 5: Tokyo Skyscraper

* * *

_My world changed the moment we met_

_Then the trick games began_

-Tokyo Skyscraper, SCANDAL

* * *

He remembered Aoi sometimes. The few nights before he would eventually meet the motorcycle lights racing in the temporary darkness of the streets, skyscrapers kissing the sky with their sharp glass and white buildings. Under the pure white sky, he savored the taste of the wind and its sharp taste, the taste of the memory of a close friend he cherished, away from someone he almost loved. The times he didn't understand what played on TV, the times he found himself wishing Aoi were there to cheer him on and tell him that he could do it. When he walked home, when he boarded the train after wondering around, despite Tanaka's little hits and raps, against her anger that he go home early and study like a good boy and be a credit to his mother, grown aged with worry from two years.

The thoughts of a boy who chases after his old self, in hopes of grasping the lost ball and the sakura petals that fell when the one who cared so much for him left him. The dreams of a child who ran after him all the time, the handsome child with famous eyes reminiscent of the calm water washing over the shores of life. The vivid drama had gone on, with the ephemeral eternity of pink petals flying on him and his memories, the lost balls that once belonged to the backboard, hitting and hitting for the echoing distance. The humming of a cheerful comrade whose winsome smiles were the substitutes for watching some annoying but cute girl dancing her hips away, his trying to look away due to the inappropriate information spilled from intelligent minds, passed on to him.

Sometimes, the pieces fell into place. Sometimes, the mechanism worked its way on him, twisting his mind more than a Geometry problem did to his mind whenever he ran after Gorilla to teach him how. The Harpy would be pulling his ear, and hissing at him to plead for mercy just to actually learn how to identify the application of the Isosceles Triangle Theorem, the Parallel Alternate Interior Angles are Congruent idea, yada yada. It was more different than before. Before, he didn't have Miss Harpy yondering around him, making him wonder at her own twisted self, the way she blushed at him, the way she fearlessly broke hymens for dancing, the tantalizing and robotic face she put on whenever she rapped, it was a dragon's dance, the fire of the lady Kushinada. Then the cryptic typing and writing, words in her notebooks that told of Tahno Okeda.

_Tokyo skyscraper,_

_Touch me, darling; kiss me darling_

Why did he find himself transfixed between time and space with her? First, he watched her, then the second next came and he saw Aoi in new eyes. What could be of Aoi right now? He would be in high school, taller, about the Harpy's age, the indigo eyes sharp and shining. His "cute" looks would blossom into its elegant maturity, the delicacy turned into a sharpness of manful honesty. Poseidon would have his match in this mature Aoi. Aoi, Aoi, the blueness of his eyes, the waves of his willpower and the mastery he would have over the Slough of Despondence. These haunting fields of mindly tricks bothered him, a parallel of the shine of the metal on the train he now rode on the way home.

"Nice teeth for someone who's always being called Toothless," called someone cheerfully, from his back.

He craned his neck, slightly suspicious. To his surprise, a curvy girl with curling blond hair and blue-green eyes was smirking at him. She wore a cream-colored jacket, loose striped white and beige dress, ivory leggings and tan Mary Janes. Her figure was a dancer's frame, curvy and attractive, and tantalizing. All the feminine wiles of stars and sinners rolled into this girl. This girl was popular in his school; those pipes, her husky voice, her dancing, her way for taking charge of everything.

"I beg your pardon?" His voice came out gruff.

"Excuse me, that's what I've heard Tanaka-kun call you, right?" The dancer shrugged and tossed her hair vainly, a flamboyant star. "Just call me Misa-san. Misaki. Yes, Misaki Tsunemori. I'm Tanaka-kun's classmate, the best pupil in Hyuga-sensei's PA class. I'm also running for the Student Council." She shook his hand vigorously. "I know who you are. You're Toothless-san, of course, although Mitsui-senpai'd be the most respectful term. Nonetheless, I am accommodating to call you Toothless-san, as I wish."

A vein throbbed in his temple. The Harpy was being indirectly cruel to him – again. First, she'd fooled him with the bandage on his chin, then the way she hit him whenever he was pissing her off. His ears hurt from her saying NO to his insistence that they go out for ramen so she could eat. NO. NO. NO. He couldn't stand the way she starved and sacrificed herself for her looks for some stupid guy who didn't deserve her. That tall freakish idiot who had a green jacket and made goo-goo eyes at her in the arcade, the one whose identity she kept a secret from him. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR. She must be with him, on a date by now.

She was a cruel mistress to serve, that Harpy with blue eyes and that –sa tick of hers. URGHHHH.

Misaki laughed, almost evilly at his face. "You look so funny," she commented, "when I mentioned Tanaka-kun, you just well, turned into that." She snickered. "I guess you like her, too."

"I don't!"

"Well? You do seem to be concerned about her... weight loss."

"It's not like I have anything to do with it," he retorted, defensive. "She's starving herself, Misaki-san."

"I think she eats less than before. Then she breaks out in sweat all the time. She goes home, you go with her, and she watches you at practice. I've seen how she looks at you. I think she cares, too."

"She doesn't care about me."

He didn't really mean his reply. That was the b.s. he had to tell Hotta, who was set on ready to tease him for Tanaka. Hotta seemed quite interested in Tanaka, and he had had to beg the large boy not to stalk her or else he'd get a black eye for the month. He'd walked around with her for so much time to know what she did to boys who hit on her unsupervised and undone. He'd seen how angry she was, and slapped others cruelly with the blink of her eyes. The anger was no longer masked. For all weight loss she was losing, she was as stubborn as a pig when it came to that. When he'd asked why she was losing weight, she scowled and told him two words: Performance Arts.

"But you for her."

"Excuse me?"

"You do. You wait for her outside the PA Room. You go home with her usually. You go jogging with her on weekends. You stay by her in the lunch." The girl sighed. "Ayako's been telling me how on your first practice, she hit you with a water bottle because you were ignoring her. You said you were sorry. And plus, Ayako's overheard all those male conversations about her in the locker room. It's not an uncommon thing about her; the boys get scared of her because of her easy temper. You are something to the others. Others cannot stand her temper at all."

"I guess so." He looked at Misaki. "How's her Performance Art grades for now?"

"She's already been put down by Hyuga-sensei already for her training. It's worse. The teacher even refuses to talk to her. Keeps her in the Freshman class all alone by herself. She has had to contact me just to learn. It's really taking a toll on her, but she won't let it show."

"So what now?"

"Help her. Encourage her. Teach her. Dance with her. She would really need it. It will loosen her up. You two are quite funny together. It might amuse me, for once. "

"Uh-huh."

"Hey! Look at me!" barked the girl. "Don't you dare let that Tanaka go, okay?! She's a cute girl, and she needs you! So obey me now or else I will castrate you in front of all these people in the subway, whether you like it or you like it, and despite anything! I'll do it Game of Thrones-style, and it'll get bloody, I assure you!"

"Tanaka's not that -"

"DAMN YOU!" Misaki waved her fist. "Look at Tanaka carefully! As far as I am concerned, you ought to be concerned about her! She gives you bentos everyday and you don't give a shit about her?! That hurts! Well, she's not an object or a ball that bounces to you so nonchalantly. I know that girl is infamous behind the Shohoku lockers, but forget it! I am asking you to cooperate and encourage her! She has a hard head, but a good and pretty one on her shoulders. She's a treasure, from the looks. They're not as pretty as mine, as I am evidently more beautiful than her, but still, you ought to appreciate her beauty now and then, did you hear me? Her legs are pretty hot, but more boys drool over mine. Nonetheless, her looks will grow. Wait and see, Mitsui Hisashi also known as Toothless, and you'll see what I am talking about! It's the kind of beauty you see rarely, looks like Sansa Stark: those pretty locks of hair and indigo eyes and fair skin, high cheekbones, that needs to appreciated more, especially when animated. You should appreciate her more, hear me?! She has traditional beauty, but one day, you won't regret listening to me. Especially when her looks mature more."

And she smiled manfully, in the promise of the possibility of the growth that would bloom one day.

Tanaka... The possibility of her grades gaining beside him eased him a bit. She would have to grow more. And Misaki was asking such a request. The classmate was asking for it right now. Growing up. It meant to care and watch over Tanaka more, in exchange of the future that she would one day be more beautiful. To Gori, it might be a ridiculous exchange, but to Mitsui, it fascinated him. It was an amusing prospect: his quarrelsome and angry little friend filling in the looks that would be her crown one day, one of the turn-ons of the boys and the future she would one day be a true Kushina, reigning beside her beloved Susanoo. Until Susanoo would come for her, Misaki was asking that he stay by her until Susanoo would come.

"How do I start?"

"It'll be natural. It'll be like the way you treat Anzai. All respect, but loss of formality. Protective. Care for her as if she is the one you hold most precious. You do know that. You're close to her so yeah, it won't be a problem. Watch over her and you get to see her getting prettier. You're an existential one, you know." She grinned a wicked grin. "I've seen how nice and polite you can be. You are like a samurai, you get your debts and pay them, but you want reasons to live."

"So Tanaka is one?"

"I'm giving you the choice to or not. You care about her. I'm sure you need to prove it, though."

* * *

_Just be friends,_

_All you gotta do is just be friends  
_

_It's time to say goodbye,  
_

_Just be friends  
_

The pop music rang loud and clear as a brown-haired girl joined in Luka Megurine's song, humming it with the hints of stoicness that only she was capable of. She stood on the stage in the PA room, holding the mike tightly. Half-nervous, her eyes were dim. The windows showed the darkness outside of the school. About 5:30 pm now. The basketball team still would be practicing by now. The clock on the wall hung, ticking with the right hand of lust and impatience. The blurred pixel quality of the song went on as the girl took a few breathing exercises as she tried to vocalize the song as fair as she could.

Her face was withdrawn and pale, her color as pale as a sheet. Her eyes were dead man's eyes, trapped in a wonderland she could not reach. Far away, she was chasing this wonderland, but she could not. She was a robot trapped in her hate and illusion. She was a girl trapped in the machine of her own making, her Great Perhaps strewn in all directions, all which she desired not at all. But force was force. Mechanisms are mechanisms, trapped in bodies that carry broken hearts that hide thorns and occasional budding roses as a result. She saw a blank white sky outside, to her illusions, her Tahnos and Toothlesses scattered in the harsh realities of hate, and she saw tall buildings. She saw blue roses falling, in their five centimeters limits and minutes. She saw the room of colorless and plasma blood, and her mechanism worked so. And bathing it was, in a pool of indigo.

Indigo for eternity, indigo for the dawn, for the twilight. Indigo for mystery. Indigo for stability, for truth, the plain realities that abound.

_I remembered early yesterday morning  
Why do I feel  
As if I'm gathering piece of broken glass? Blood drips from my cut fingers  
I wonder if we wanted to do these kinds of things_

Ami's voice choked considerably, as the words started to sink in her head. She shook her head. No, she was going to do this to raise her grade or else she would resort to Oppa Gangnam Style.

For the next twenty minutes, the mechanism was the clock ticking, its heartbeat on the wall. The mellow grimness of her situation and the clock, its impatience heavy and hard with the truth of herself. The world was black and white, and Tahno was a faint memory in her head. Memories of the old: smiling cute fifteen-years olds who played basketball till his mechanism gave out, of the five-inch limits of flower-trees, the withering awkwardness of being a girl trapped in a boy's body, boys who wanted to "just be friends."

Was it the best choice? When had she been told it was the best? The world around her was a group of shattered glass, her skin dripping with blood. The other night, she was training in her karate, the Heian Shodan, she realized it had to be very futile. Futile, useless to pick off where she had left off with this person. Fallen petals had fallen and the darkness was her friend. Such things never bloomed again. She had detested a lot of things ever since that incident, back in middle school. She started hating cherry blossoms, their low life, the frailty of human life, the very grimness of how shallow she was, the uselessness of being herself, and she detested basketball and being her tomboy self. She had buried herself in a pile of karate regimes, and buried herself in girly magazines, although she found some of them very shallow. Nonetheless, the tips were helpful and she had happily passed for a girl, though deep inside, there was that empty girl whose soul was drowned for acknowledgements.

Grabbing the mic, she sighed. _My voice is ugly._ _But I hav_e_ to do it._

She took another breath.

_In this slowly decaying world  
A path for my struggling self  
I carve in your colorless smile  
I pulled off the plug_

As she sang, there was the cord between the black and white. The mechanism clicked, in a heart of thorns and stalagmites and stalactites. Hollow caves opened, leaching the water in them. Sweet music and bitter drums clicked, and churned on and on.

Meanwhile, the lusty of the hand of the clock clicked.

* * *

"PASS!"

The ball dribbled, a flash of dizzying scarlet. Spin. Turn. Run. It was the rhythm of life.

"HEY! MICCHI! PASS THE BALL TO ME!" growled a certain redhead. He waved his arms, impatient and furious, a fireball. Watching on, the Buddha was enlightened. His eyes were on the ball, and the First Five. The Gorilla had no care for time, as long as practice was there, he attended.

"Anzai-sama?"

Buddha smiled at the curvacious girl. Quickly, the Tsunemori girl put her lips on the Buddha's ear and started to whisper.

* * *

Dismissal from practice. From the corner of his eye, Anzai beamed at him. Tsunemori smirked at him, and Sakuragi growled at him. Miyagi teased him, and Ayako was chatting with Tsunemori.

"Where's Tanaka?"

Anzai laughed.

"She's at the PA Room."

Mitsui scowled.

"She didn't tell me."

Tsunemori shrugged. "She didn't tell you that she's staying up here until 7:30. Hyuga-sensei told her to improve on her own or else she'd be dropped from the classes altogether. She's practicing alone her emotion. Can't you help her or something? Gorilla is futile to help her although I know in his records that he has good emotions."

Sakuragi and Miyagi burst into laughter.

Mitsui glowered at them, and Rukawa nodded at Tsunemori rather politely.

"WHAT THE HELL? She didn't tell me that at lunch."

"What did she say to you during lunch?"

"She said she wasn't hungry and I made her eat. We had an eating contest, and she lost. She was really troublesome. Plus, she called me a pig because she thinks that I eat enough to deprive a whole supermarket." Mitsui's nose wrinkled in annoyance.

"I told you she was a tough job." Miyagi smirked.

"_**Anyway**"-_Misaki scowled-"she has curfew at 8:00 in school days, did she tell you that? Because it's about seven, dammit! Go, get her and get her home! You know, if she gets late, her karate classes after school will get canceled and her future is on jeopardy." The Tsunemori girl stamped on the floor, her heels echoing a loud echo across the wide gym.

"Fine." He headed towards the door.

"Um, one last word, _senpai._"

He looked at the Tsunemori girl.

"What?"

"Be nice to her parents and her. They're very strict." Misaki smiled evilly.

"Yes, Captain Obvious."

* * *

When he opened the door, she was singing. Her voice had changed.

_I shouted until my voice was dry  
The echo reverberates in the empty air  
Although there was nothing left  
After the chains were removed_

When she saw him, she stared and put her hands on her mouth. She looked like a mess. Her long hair was really messy, and frizzy. The uniform she wore was wet from perspiration. Her skin was pale, and her cheeks were sunken. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were dim from the darkness. She held a mic, her face clearly shaken, as if she had seen a ghost. What happened to her? Who did that to her?

"Who did that to you, Tanaka?" he grumbled, and tried to hold her but she slapped his hand away, defiant.

"It's not your business, Toothless!" she hissed, and looked away. In the darkness, she was a limp creature. There was something wrong with the Tanaka girl tonight. Her eyes scared him, big and emaciated in the blackness of the room. The mic was gripped and wriggled to be free from its desparate holder. Her eyes were rimmed with pink and scarlet. Her teeth ground.

"It is. Now stop being so stubborn and let me help you." She turned away, and he caught her chin with his finger.

"Tanaka, look at me." Her eyes lowered. He tilted her chin so he could look in her eyes. "I said, look at me, and be honest, Tanaka. This is the least of my problems. I am responsible for whatever happens to you, so don't give me a headache. I'm tired and hungry and I was worried so sick about you when Tsunemori-san said you were staying past curfew -"

"Everyone's tired!"

"Tanaka!"

She stopped her fight. The mic fell to the floor.

His eyes turned to the mic. _Performance Arts... Failure... Hyuga-sensei... Staying up late... Curfew... Strict family..._ Damn. It was really as serious. He picked up the mic and gave it to her. "So you need help in emotions, right?"

"Y-yeah."

"Well, then, sing."

Her eyes froze him. "Did you even get a high grade at that?!"

"Yeah," he lied.

Tanaka glared at him darkly.

"Well? Sing. With emotions."

Tanaka opened her mouth.

_Fate that connected us  
Becomes undone and disappears into everyday life  
Goodbye my loved one... This is the end  
Now we look go on without looking back  
_

Her voice was quite rich, but it lacked volume, and at the same time, the right emotion. It was like having a robot sing for you.

"No offense, Tanaka," he began, "but you sound like a robot."

Twenty minutes later, he was rubbing his head sorely (she hit him after that comment) and he had forced the mic back. Her eyes were getting redder, and she sniffed.

___Fate that connected us  
Becomes undone and disappears into everyday life  
Goodbye my loved one... This is the end  
Now we look go on without looking back_

_This is the end_

_(Just be friends All we gotta do_  
_Just be friends It's time to say goodbye)_

_(Just be friends All we gotta do_  
_Just be friends It's time to say goodbye)_

This time, her voice was raw. Pure, and a few hints of emotion. He watched her change, as if she was a girl whose heart was intent on such a song. He saw her become a singer, ready to bare her emotion. The loudness and volume surprised him, in its full glory. Notes were proper, and it was something beautiful.

When she was done, he patted her back.

"Beautiful."

At that, her cheeks pinked for a moment then she slapped him.

"Toothless, you little joker!"

He dropped her off her house. At the train, on the way home, she was sleepy, and fell asleep. On the way to the train, it rained and he gave her his jacket without qualms. She was too tired to protest, and he insisted on sitting beside her on the train. Dizzy with fatigue, her eyes closed, and her head dropped to his shoulder, his jacket wrapped around her. The jacket was a few sizes larger than her but she seemed comfortable sleeping in it. A student from Ryonan on his way home passed them by, and had smiled at the sight of her head on his shoulder, cozy.

"Thanks, Toothless," she yawned. He shrugged.

When she had said bye and the door had opened to reveal her parents, Mitsui had not hidden.

Her mother and father were holding hands. The father was a man with a pretty face roughened by years of love and hard work. He had indigo eyes, and he slightly resembled Aoi. He was tall and lean, and wore a comfortable yukata one size larger. The mother was an elegant lady, with a wide forehead, full lips, chiseled heart-shaped face. Her eyes were squinty but almond-shaped, smaller, and her nose was pretty, her chin pointed and angled. She had wide hips and a curvy statuesque frame most women her age would be glad to die for. Her hair was short and a deep shade of chestnut. Suspiciously, she resembled her daughter.

What got to him was the way her parents eyed him as if he were a persistent potential suitor. Shaking his head, the Third Year inwardly grinned to himself. As if.

The memory of her reactions kept him smiling on the long walk home.


	6. Alone

**Chapter 6:** Alone

* * *

_Where did you come from  
I keep looking at you  
Your gaze  
I really like it  
I want to go near you but  
I don't have the courage  
My heart is fluttering  
I'm hesitating_

_-_RolyPoly, T-ARA

* * *

"So you've figured out the counterexample?"

"I think I do."

Tanaka lifts her chin high, proud as an eagle. Today, she looked better. There were small bruises under her eyes. Her hair was put up in a chopstick and she smelled like green tea perfume.

"Then please go on."

Tanaka smirks.

"Akashi is practically Hinata Hyuga. You know those girls who like Rukawa and want him to be the father of their babies? Yeah, almost like that. She gushes over him a lot in ways more mature than those dumb fangirls. Anyway, it's Tahno."

"So what about our young basketball player?"

"Well, he cares deeply for her. He protects her from bullies. He hangs out with her a lot. He's never gone out with her. He's never stated anywhere that he loves her in the romantic sense of view. I have the proof. I am the writer."

Suwabe shook his head, almost amused by this.

"If you are saying so, that's good."

"Then thanks –"

"But no. I disagree."

"What is your example, then, sir?"

"I think Nakamura's viewpoint makes everything obvious. It's the way Tahno looks at our cute Akashi-chan."

"Nakamura states Akashi is precious to Tahno. NOT a love interest, with all due respect."

"Sure, she has tendencies to nag in the minimal senses, but I'm against your counterexample, my dear Tanaka. "

"Bring it on, sir."

"Akashi is his tie to his environment, right? It's how Nakamura sees how Tahno looks at Akashi that everything is revealed. Nakamura is the witness to how Akashi and Tahno develop as people and their relationship. Nakamura recalls that once Akashi and Tahno almost kiss – and Tahno blushes an impeccably lovely shade of red. State why Tahno will blush?"

"It's Akashi who blushes a lot."

"Well? I conclude that Tahno has romantic feelings for Akashi. Tahno is described to look at Akashi with the eyes of a lovesick young man. At times, he is not scared to state to himself he will die for her with 'the fire of a man dying for his immortal love, the one and only.'"

"You win," Tanaka huffed. Great. A teacher bought her out, for her whole history. Toothless wuld gloat at her loss.

"It seems you're so distracted. It's a pity. I hope you won't give up easily, my dear," Suwabe informed her, his voice sincere and pleasant. "I'm very surprised you gave out easily today. I'm a bit disappointed but I'm glad you did such a good job on this project. Who knows, at the rate this story goes, even the whole Shohoku basketball team will read your story!"

"R-Read it?"

"Yes. It's a slice-of-life, dear. Your descriptions of basketball life are so true and faithful. The balance of victory and enough emotion that makes the sport and characters almost normal. Nakamura's failure in relationships, Akagi's drive to succeed and Tetsuya's wish to play more honestly. Akashi's cheer and hopes. It's very wonderful, too."

"Thanks, I guess."

"Why are you so good at writing basketball scenes? Did you play it? Are you a basketball manager? Middle school observations?"

"Sir, observations."

Suwabe gave her a searing once-over.

"You seem like an Akashi and Akagi, honestly, but I feel by the way you write Akashi's views, I feel like it's you. It's the most possible explanation I have. You share a lot of common stuff with Akashi. You're both females and bookish."

Tanaka nodded.

"Do you mind if I ask you something really personal?"

"I don't mind."

Suddenly, she's fearless again.

"Have you ever been in love, Tanaka-san? Or considered yourself such?"

She is on fire.

"W-W-Why are you asking me this? I've never had a decent boyfriend nor had I a decent relationship that worked."

"Well, you must have liked someone at this rate! Do you watch the basketball practices?"

"I do."

"Is there anyone you fancy in the team? Rukawa? He seems to be charming enough."

"But he's antisocial."

A snigger.

"Miyagi? I had him as a student once. Very mischievous and philandering. Not exactly a decent student. Mediocre, too."

"Not him. He's too small. What is this? Lovely Complex?"

Suwabe laughed.

"Come on. He's had tons of girls who tore his heart out of his sleeve. You're a cute girl – is there no reason why you can't refuse a guy?"

"Well, I think he likes someone else. And people say I'm too much of a nagger."

"Oh."

"Sakuragi?"

"He's a monkey!"

Suwabe shook his head.

"Then that three-pointer specialist? I'd say he'd be a nice catch."

"He's cute!"

Tanaka covered her mouth. What the heck had she admitted? SHIT. The Others take her.

"So you fancy him? He'd be lucky."

Tanaka hit her face and head on the table.

"NO! I don't!" She raised her chin in defiance, her face ruddy and reddening from the hits she got at the table. "PLEASE!"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm VERY s-sorry! I really need to go right now!"

"We were just talking and –"

"Really! I do not fancy Mitsui-kun, he's out of my league and I am a-asexual! I have some Performance Arts stuff to really polish and finish and he's out of my mind."

"O-Okay."

* * *

"Where the heck did she run off to?"

Misaki scowled.

"I tried asking everyone. Rukawa said he'd keep an eye on her. Miyagi said he didn't. Aya-chan mentioned that she passed by Suwabe-sensei who she had overheard telling another teacher about how his literary meeting session with Ami got interrupted when she suddenly said that she had to go –"

"Stop it!"

Mitsui raised a brow at Misaki.

"Who's Ami?"

Misaki kicked him in the shin with anger.

"That's her given name, you faggot!" she hissed impatiently. "Anyway, from Aya-chan, we get the intel that our Tanaka's run off from a literary meeting from Suwabe-sensei. He's the toughest Literature teacher Shohoku has. Well, Hyuga is tougher, but she's easy for me. Akagi didn't mention her at all. Kogure-kun's trying to look for her, per my request."

"Oh-kay. Is there anything else mentioned?"

"Well, Aya-chan mentioned that Suwabe said Ami ran off while talking about the issue of love."

He winced. "Never had a boyfriend before, didn't she?"

Misaki cackled bitterly.

"Yep. That's how naïve our little girl is."

"You're making me feel like she's our daughter. Ugh."

"Good, then."

"Hey! Can't you apologize, Misaki? It's a deep insult to my pride as a-"

"Bless your pride, my dear."

"Shut up. I think I know already where she went?"

"Why? A little monkey told you so?" Misaki spat. "I dragged Sakuragi and interrogated him about Ami's whereabouts. The girl's almost a no-show."

"Maybe, but for Suwabe."

"Fine."

"Suwabe was heard to say Ami wanted to practice her PA."

"Then let's go there."

There she was, as predicted by the unlikely Harpy Oracle.

She was dancing and singing at the top of her voice.

_I like like this  
I like like that  
I like this, like that  
Yeah_

He stared at her with some sort of worry.

* * *

"Tanaka, um, you ever dated anyone?"

Tanaka scowled.

"Why should I?"

"My friend Hotta mentioned he saw you with a guy in a green jacket, you know. In one of those movie theaters. Some guy from the Kanagawa district, too."

She coughed violently, sputtering out the food she had. Up to now, she had been munching on her kimchi and onigiri. Then he just had to mention the Shoyo player with the green jacket. Inwardly, he felt a little irritated at her for not telling him that she was seeing someone behind his back. Damn him.

"I'm sorry."

Tanaka scowled and wiped her face with a handkerchief. "Why should you be concerned? It's not your business. He's not my boyfriend, and hence, you shouldn't be asking why in the first place. My parents know him anyway."

"So who is _**he?**_"

Tanaka paled.

"Why are you so hell-bent on asking me who the guy is? Why are you so concerned? I'm not your girlfriend, for the sake of the Seven Hells!"

"I'm just curious. Intellectual curiosity."

"You call it intellectual curiosity and yet you even insisted you sit next to me on that train three weeks ago? I do not believe you."

"Come on. For the sake of the bentos you give to me so graciously."

"Jeesh. Shut up, Hisashi!"

"Come on."

"FINE!"

In a gesture of mock-surrender, Tanaka threw her hands up.

"He was my friend from middle school. I met him because…It's a long story. It's too troublesome to tell."

"HEY!"

"Fine. I worked as a basketball manager for a middle school, and even played. On the way to the stadium, we got out of the train. When I got out of the train, I tripped – and this guy caught me. He scolded and chided the team I managed to treat me with more regard and respect. I wished the guy good luck, and he turned out to be the player of the rival team my team was playing against. He lost, and I kind of felt sorry for him. I snuck out of the lockers to meet this guy and told him not to give up."

"Is that all?"

"Nope. There was a lot more to the story than that. But I'm sure it'll bore you."

"I want the whole story."

"We parted for a while… My hair kinda grew out. We eventually met again in a restaurant. I was waiting for the team captain to meet me in the restaurant because we had to talk about something really, really important between him and me… Then it turned out, the guy was also there. He was eating lunch there and he treated me. At first he didn't recognize me because I looked much different."

"Go on."

"After that, we bumped into each other again at a café while he was on his way to sign up for his entrance exam to a high school. We ate together; I was on the way home after my karate lessons, and met him. He wanted my number and he said he enjoyed talking to me. So he got my number. I wished him good luck. Occasionally, we still saw each other."

Something in her had changed – she became less of a Harpy, almost like the Aoi he knew so well.

"Then you dated him."

"Shut up!" Tanaka laughed throatily. "We're close friends, but there's still distances. We talk once in a while. We see each other occasionally. He's never gotten super close to me unlike someone else."

"Who's this, then?"

"Two people have really gotten close to me. First was the captain. We were such good friends. Even as children. I liked to watch him play. I supported him with what I had. I waited for him to graduate. During his graduation, he left his ID to me. It was a story longer than the ones I had. I really valued the captain. He never gave up. He had a purpose in life. I really liked him. He never noticed me much. We both had promises to each other, too."

"Did you like him so much?"

"Of course, I did. I cheered for him. I helped him study. I prayed for him, and went out with him on festivals. We used to be neighbors, too, until I moved away. He was older than me and he had to leave, too."

"What did you promise to him?"

"I promised that I'd find him. I'd continue being his friend. I said that I wanted him to read something from me. It was a shame he never gave to me his ID in personal. He passed it to his underclassman who handed it to me. It was a scandal, though."

"I can't imagine you getting into a scandal."

"Yup. Pretty much me."

"And what else? Did the captain treat you a lot better than the guy in the green jacket?" Oddly, he felt possessive and really jealous.

"Yep. I felt happier with the captain. I felt more confident with him and I was sad to see him go. Duty calls, although not all of us conform to it as well. We talked a lot, he and I. I often had to drag him out of his own limits to become his very best. "

"If you really liked him, why didn't you confess?"

"I tried. It never worked efficiently." She giggled.

"Come on. The guy has to treat you much better than that!"

"He promised me so much. All I had to do was wait and fight. I held on to it. But then it disappeared. I forgot sometime about it."

"Do you really think the captain will go back to you?"

"No. It's the cruel way of the world."

"Such a pity. I wish I can go beat the guy up. Poor you."

"You're so funny sometimes, Toothless."

"Great."

"I think the captain is better for you."

"Why do you say so?"

"Well, the captain sounded like a better guy than the green-jacket one."

"Seriously?"

"Uh-huh."

"It's not the first time someone's mentioned it. Misaki said so. "

"Were you a looker in middle school? You had a lot of fans, you said."

"It depends. A lot of people liked me. I was popular. I was nice. I was not afraid of anything yet. But my hair was a bit of a rut back then."

"You're not too bad to look at."

"Shut up."

"No, honest. Take a load of me back when I had long hair. Call that nice to look at?"

"Jeesh. Are you flattering me?"

"No! Hell no!"

"Good."

"But you're really pretty."

"Hell. I have hair that's too long. I have a small chest and I'm too violent."

"That's individuality."

"Good to see that you have a decent working brain, you idiot. I am therefore concluding that you are kind of smart, though you are too lazy."

"Thanks, I guess."

"I wonder why my tongue's gotten so loose around you. A few months ago, I would rather throw myself out the building than talk to you. Hell, I'll even castrate you."

_Maybe it's destiny_, he thought.

"It's mutual," Mitsui insisted. "My tongue's gotten loose, too. You're not the only. I just realized that, too. Just now."

"That's nice. I can't believe I just told you my whole stupid love story. It never lasted. For me, it's just a sad reality of the humanity. It's true."

"What's true, then?"

"That life is like a sakura blossom. It's ephemeral. You have to enjoy it while it lasts. Without love, they say, life is a meaningless existence."

"It's more than love."

"You know, thinking about the captain, he and I started the same way. We were together, when we started our way to victory. Be the best in Japan, yes, it's absurd, but I enjoyed the raiment of it. However, we drifted apart."

"That's so sad. You two have to end it together."

"No, no. Let things be, Hisashi. I know I'm absurd already."

"Don't talk that way. Maybe things will get better."

"He never said if he saw me more than as a friend. I never got to hear him tell me if he cared for me so much. He never appeared to me again."

"You can find him again."

"Either way, I'm very sorry you have to deal with me like this. I feel so much better, though. I'm grateful you're here."

"No problem. I hope you do better in PA. You should get better. I can't just abandon you like that."

"Abandon me? I'm used to it."

"You don't deserve that. You can't deal with it on your own all the time."

"But yet I do. It proves me as resilient."

"It's not bad to talk to someone."

"Thank you, Hisashi." She closed her eyes. A smile graced her face. "I'm glad you listened to me for once."

"It's not a problem at all."

* * *

For a thousand minutes of practice alone, he thinks about the earlier conversation he had with her. She had giggled. She had smiled. She had laughed.

The fire of jealousy lit in his own heart, the empathy for a poor girl who lost track of herself visible in him. But she had proven to be resilient and trusting enough.

Poor girl.

He had to admit to himself, he did have a heart for her.

* * *

"Gori."

Akagi sniffed.

"What do you want? Is it Rukawa? Go talk to my sister about him."

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"I…" A choke.

"I wish to know how you got a perfect grade in Miss Hyuga's class!"

Akagi sighed.

"Lots of practice."

* * *

Light pours on the sidewalk as they walk together.

"How was practice?"

"Not bad."

"How was Sakuragi?"

"He – um – is still a monkey."

"And Akagi?"

"He mentioned you went after him."

"Oh."

"And what else?"

"Kogure said you looked prettier today."

With that, she laughed.

* * *

**Notes:** I hope that the development IS really there! If you ask me, it flowed naturally. Anyone thinks they're soulmates already?


	7. HOT Like FIRE

**Chapter 7:** I'm Hot Like Fire

* * *

_Pretending to be an athlete, this snobby  
Clumsy Playa  
Like you're a flat tire  
I'll dump you good for people to see_

-2NE1, I Am The Best

* * *

Maybe at some point, she thought, he did love her. Or she was smoking right now. At some point, there had to be something that worked in her head canon, the universe of fluttering fire and petals. Why was the dominating power of the universe so cruel? She had just told him everything, and he had to be at some point with her. Misaki had told her he worried a lot….

And her?

She was kidding herself.

Ami buried her face in her desk, blushing furiously.

"Jeesh, don't get so nervous, Tanaka!"

"I'm sure you'll do well on the practicals!" offered another girl.

"Oh, she definitely will!" Misaki cackled, the anti-collegiate girl she was. "And I'll make her dance that seductively delicious dance of the Trouble Maker. I'm sure she can stand a chance, but against me, NO!" And she laughed, her teeth showing, her mouth wide open you could see her tonsils. She just had to the class bitch.

Bitch, Ami thought furiously, pulling at the ends of her own hair, all loose and hanging from her loosening braids. She didn't want to look at the mirror now.

"Ami-chan, I've already ordered and done the costumes, and they're gonna flatter you so your little boy toy will drool at you-"

"WHAT? You invited him?"

"AWWWW! You're so adorbs Photoshop, you know that?"

Ami swatted the busty girl's hands off her face.

"Just drop it, will you?" she hissed.

Misaki pouted. "JEEZ. You're so uptight. No wonder you're still boyfriend-less."

"Tch –"

"VIRGIN."

Misaki's eyes blazed with the condemnation of the cold truth. She arched her hips proudly.

"Shut up! Nothing good comes out of sex when you're forced on it," Ami grumbled as she pulled out some graphing papers and a ruler from her bag.

"Come on. I'm the bitch here. And you're my um, toy."

"Did I tell you you're such a bitch?"

"THANKS!"

* * *

A few hours, he found her in some random basketball court. And she certainly didn't look like the fragile girl he knew. She was running – and she was light in her feet, quick as lightning, eyes almost tired and she dribbled a ball. Her clothes were a large jacket, some slacks that showed some leg and sneakers. The ball was just a moving orb in her hands. She moved with youth and some spirit.

Her eyes found him – then in a flash, he smelled her perfume. Green tea and vanilla. As his impulse ordered him to, he spun and blocked but she diverted away in the misdirection she intended for. She ran ahead, and pausing, she readied her stance. Her hands flew – and so did the red ball.

The ball hit the basket – and fell into its place.

She smiled.

'Wow."

She frowned.

"How did you even do that?!"

Tanaka wiped her face.

"Nothing. Seriously."

"You call that nothing? Jeez, you're faster than Miyagi, no offense. I thought you didn't –"

"I played, dude. In middle school. I was popular back then, I told you."

"And here, you're just a bitter failure in PA."

She snorted.

"'Cripes, I'm sorry."

She nods, silent again.

"Why do you even want to see me again? I thought you had practice. Coach will be furious. Akagi will preach, I wager." As she spoke, it hit him that she was smirking cockily at him.

"I'm done with practice."

"That's fast," she murmured. "I told you not to see me because I was having my own chores. I've been training."

He noticed her skin was all sweaty, her shirt soaked to the point he could see the outline of her thin sando. She was more stressed out than he thought. Akagi had mentioned seeing her dancing some seductive dance and Sakuragi was ranting about how she hit him when he bumped into her in the corridor when her books fell and he had furiously almost gotten a black eye.

"Why do you act so strange? You should act more like my teacher, Miss Masaoka."

"Oh, the prim and pretty one. The one your friends drool at at class." Her eyes were slits.

"Yeah. Sometimes, you're really confusing."

She fingered the tip of his nose.

"You know what?"

"What?"

_I like you_, he thought.

"Well-behaved women never make history."

"I never thought so."

"Think about it."

* * *

Pretty soon, Misaki told him, she was scoring more than the practices. Her schedule was hectic. Whenever he told her some things, she was dozing off at times. And if he scolded her, her face would pale. The words "Do I care?" hit his ears and it hurt him. Dart to the heart, but given the circumstances, it was kind of unfair too.

"Do I care?" she told him when he said that Akagi was like this gorilla.

"Do I care?" she told him when he told her that she was such a tease.

"Do I care?"

It was frustrating to see her sometimes.

If he passed by her classroom, she was always ignoring him. Chattering in her monotonous way to the other girls. Staring at the window. Taking notes. Dancing by herself and getting told off. Hotta commented that she was acting strangely for a girl her own age. And Misaki? She had laughed when he told her about the phase that was covered by the I Don't Care phase.

Every day was tiring.

Practice came and went, and he had a hard time keeping up his own strength. Shoyo – and Kainan – and Ryonan games were coming now and he had to counter it his way or give up trying. He was going to give it his all. And Tanaka was working her butt off just to make the ends meet in arranging her messy schedule. There was studying, and her dancing – and karate promotions so he hardly saw her.

* * *

Misaki could see the developments.

She was quiet. She was noisy. She had her heads on the clouds, her feet planted as her heart was on the ground beneath her feet. And her feet were getting better. As she perspired, her eyes blazed. She had more spirit than what Toothless had seen. Even if he was the first to claim her, Misaki had nothing but things to teach and advise to Ami. One, two, three and four! Such was the high requirement for studying at a PA Class. If you were told to shake your bum, then shake your bum. Move your hips, be quick. As fast as the deer. As delicate as still water.

"Can you do it, Ami?"

Ami lifted her head and stood up from the floor where she had slipped. Her hair fell in deep chestnut waves across her back. It had grown so long, Misaki wondered, no wonder she was always getting in her hair's way. Her skin was growing more prettier with every day she came. Misaki had seen how fragile she had been two months before she had taken the girl as a friend.

"Yes. What dance is it now?"

She didn't flinch.

"I hope you're not scared, my girl," Misaki assured her.

"Scared? I know not the meaning of the word."

The girl lifted her hair and put it up in a clamp that could not hold it in altogether. Her face looked less like a child's now, maturing.

"Good."

Misaki turned the music player on.

Whistling. Footsteps.

"One, two, three." A voice.

"You want me to dance that?"

"Who's saying I can't?"

"Of course."

"W-Why?"

Misaki patted her own good thigh.

"Showing some skin has to cut it. You have to prove something to everyone. You're more than just a shadow. You can be a light that is never dim."

_And never has to die._

"Like this?"

Her hips are more mature. The way she moves her legs is less rough, a bit polished, steely as the stately and silky fighter she is capable of.

"Yep. Who says I can't?"

* * *

Sneakers and squeezes. Cherry blossoms and basketball.

Wrought about by the smell of old paper, he sees her digging up old files. Her hair is put up, her skin pale and glowing. Something almost looks different. Almost changed. Almost mature. Sometimes, he thinks she's a goddess.

It's the skin, he thinks.

No, it's her eyes, some protests.

It's her mouth.

It's not her mouth, stupid. Maybe she's playing you.

NO.

No.

No.

When he sees her, he sees the day of the cherry blossoms all over again. Shy boys who like him, a timid girl with iron. It's a creepy thing. Her eyes are eerily blue when he sees her again. In the middle of the street, when he walks with her, sometimes, she looks too familiar, and he gets the creepy feeling she is a ghost. But when he grabs her wrist because she's too fast for him, she is a stranger. Sorry, sorry, he says but deep inside, he cusses himself for failing to see her familiarity. There is the unseen string that keeps pulling him to her and it doesn't do well when she says that she's worried because he looks so troubled these days.

She says that dying makes you stronger and that what is dead never dies. Her hands are clammy, sometimes, when he feels them, on the way to home by the way of the train. And her skin is soft, her skin glows.

When she leans against his shoulder, his guard goes down and he feels safe with her.

When onlookers pass them on the train, they smile and he nods back.

He knows what they think.

There comes the dreams of spring and snow and summer and blossoms. What really sticks is the day of cherry blossoms. He dreams about a cherry blossom tree. Something tugs at his heart. He has to figure it out.

So on the sequestered Sunday that Tanaka is not around, he decides to do some investigating. She's been sniffing out things on her own - and it's not a pretty sight. He remembers the strewn sight of messy old yearbooks on the ground. Class pictures are hastily scrutinized. And when she drags him to her house when her parents are out, she turns on the CCTV in warning that if he tries to sleep with her, she will not hesitate in murdering him or worse, turning him in the police. Sleeping with her, he thinks, is a remote possibility that happens in a milennia. He can't imagine her sleeping with anyone - and if someone does, he won't hesitate to break the person's neck and be done with it. He doesn't want her all to himself.

* * *

"Do you want her?" Misaki asked him once, while waiting for her under the sakura tree.

He shakes his head.

"No."

"Then what is it?"

"She's my friend, okay?"

The girl curses him.

"Jeez. You are a stubborn one. I wish I can crush your skull."

The threat is almost creepy.

* * *

Monitoring people is such a pain.

"What's she up to?"

"It's creepy."

"Well, what is it?"

"I think she's been doing research on someone from here. It scares me."

"Who is it?"

"The closest person I believe will have to be at least Miss Hyuga."

"Why would she do such a thing?"

"I think she hates Hyuga-sensei."

* * *

_Trouble maker, trouble maker_

She takes the stage on.

"That's enough."

"O-Okay."

"Don't forget to tell Toothless I have my dibs already."

"Dibs?"

"On you."

"Ooh-kay."

She shudders as she leaves the room, a little protective.

* * *

There's something that doesn't feel right.

* * *

He tries hard to dig up some things.

It's not successful.

* * *

He calls her in the middle of the night as he walks home with Miyagi.

"How are you?"

She yawns. "I'm sleepy."

"Obviously."

From the corner of his eye, he sees the point guard's eye shine. Up to some mischief, no doubt.

"So how was practice?" she asks, snapping into the karate kid he knew.

"Tiring."

"Good. Who's your next game?"

"Shoyo - I think."

"Hn."

"Excuse me?"

Miyagi laughs.

"I tell you we're going to fight Shoyo, and you laugh? Seriously."

"Why?"

"Your um, boy friend's from -"

"HEY!"

Miyagi's eyes dilate.

"Fine. Just watch, please, will you?"

"Of course. Watch my performance, too. Will you?"

"Doubtless."

"Good. See you."

She signs off first.

* * *

"You two are so funny," Miyagi whines.

"Why?"

"You fight even over simple details. And sometimes, I get the feeling you two like it. It's creepy. I think you really do like her. Don't deny it. It's no use. Look at what happened to me."

"Yeah."

Fifty girls.

"Say, you know Tanaka?"

"Yup."

"Confess to her?"

"Almost - until she threatened me."

Sounds like her.

"I don't think she's planning on stopping with anything she wants to do," he admits.

* * *

As Miss Hyuga watches some of the videos, her lips lose the twist of cruelty.

Something unnerves her - and it's that girl.

She's hot like fire.

* * *

"I think I've got it!" Tanaka whispers as she prepares some stuff.

The right setting, the right people.

It's all about timing.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thanks for the support of the few watches! This is the climax now. :) I can't wait to see your possible theories on what Ami is up to.


	8. I'm Going to CLASH

**Chapter 8:** I'm Going to Clash

* * *

I would like to show

Cut open my skull

-Out of Control, Nothing's Carved In Stone-

* * *

She strummed the guitar.

_Walking on the street, I bumped into your man (Yeah I saw him)  
I didn't want to believe it, but my hunch turned out right (I told you)  
He's not wearing that ring you gave him, there's another girl by his side  
But I've said enough (I don't wanna hurt you)_

She was singing softly to herself.

Every strum hurts.

On her back, the rain fell against the glass windows.

It didn't feel right.

_So what do I play?_

How about something?

Ami laughed to herself as she recalled the fateful events that had happened. Miss Hyuga wanted her to take the test and sign up for the showcase eventually. This could be some ruse, Ami deduced to bring her down further. As far as Ami knew, she had enough territory to cover it. She had been training in dancing, singing with Misaki strenuously and doing martial tricks and jogging in her free time. Going to Kumon to visit her old friends and have them help her with her difficulty in Mathematics were fine, too.

Misaki had suggested she try something cute and sexy. And Miyagi had dropped by, with Ayako's advice that she stick to something her but at the same showed a new side of herself.

Who should I be?

The confident girl who loved basketball back then, the girl who loved rock music and fangirled in front of her guy friends?

Or the demure girl who lost her friends and memories?

No.

She didn't have to give up.

The test had had three stages, Misaki and Akagi had filled her in while running away from Suwabe's jibes that she was in love with the basketball boy from III-3. Suwabe seemed to be really unbearable. He was polite, and nice, though, but teasing – VERY much.

NO.

Who was she?

A rocker?

A fighter?

"Nice guitar," Toothless was telling her, and handed her something nicely wrapped.

Wait.

He was just a friend.

Why the heck was he giving her this?

She stared at it.

"Quit staring and take it!"

She scowled.

"Why the hell are you even giving me this, Toothless? You like me, don't you? Admit!"

She was laughing and snickering as she said them. Her words had a weird effect on him. He blushed.

"Is it hot?"

"Uh – yeah."

They both knew he was blushing so hard. It was a cute side of him.

"You should do that more," he said, observing her fingers as she strummed the first ten bars of _Hitohira no Hanabira_.

"Do what?"

"Smile more."

"Why ought I?"

"You look really nice when you smile."

"LIES!"

She made the robotic face once again.

"Hey! You're scaring me again!"

"CRIPES!"

She lowered the guitar and set the package on her tunic-covered lap. Today, she had took it on herself to wear something more comfortable. She had changed out of her uniform into an old shirt of her team captain, which after all these years, was too loose on her. It was a nice shirt, adidas and colored light blue, her color. She wore it over a nice pair of navy jogging pants.

"What's with the shirt?"

"Oh, it belonged to my old crush," she quipped as she got started on unraveling the ribbons in the package. "I got it from him, he forgot to bring it home after practice." Her eyes widened when she opened the lid.

"CRIPES!"

"Hey –"

"THANK YOU!"

"Huh? I didn't think you'd like the-"

She fished out two croquettes from the package. Her face was wrapped in happiness and bliss.

"Don't you know? I LOVE croquettes more than I even love ramen!"

"Geez, you're one to talk –"

Frown.

"I mean, eat."

She got set to eating them, the hungry monster she was.

"How did you know I would like them?"

"Um, it's a long story."

He seemed quite nervous to talk about it.

"I won't mind, Toothless."

"I thought you were hardly eating so you needed some snacks. Captain told me all about your showcase. Misaki said you were going to um, look sexy and really pretty and that I bring you some food and told me to go out with you for good luck and that it was difficult. I thought, why not cheer you up with some food? I had a hard time thinking what to give you."

"But croquettes…"

"An old friend. You see, you remind me of someone I really liked back in middle school."

"A girlfriend?"

He sighed.

"Incorrect."

"Go on."

"Anyway, you see, you really reminded me of someone I liked. I really liked the person. It was… my old team's manager. He was a lot like you. Stubborn, but a lot nicer and gentler than you were. And you both took karate and could be badass. The guy protected my team from bad guys and bullies. When we were in middle school, after practice or in lunch, the guy would buy me croquettes and told me to eat them to keep my strength up. It cheered me a lot. We were really close, too… I promised to write to him. I forgot it…"

"How the heck is that all linked?"

Her brows furrowed.

"Anyway," he gulped. "We were really close and we really liked each other. We had a tradition, in return, after my team would win, I would treat him croquettes. On the way to buy something for you, I even dragged Miyagi with me, I remembered my old friend and bought the croquettes."

"I bet Miyagi was really angry."

"Nope. He was rather… teasing."

"Oh, God."

"Why? You think you know why?"

"Isn't it obvious? He thinks we're both…"

"Oh, shit."

"Yes, Miyagi thinks we're going out."

She scowled.

"GO! EVAPORATE!"

"What for?"

"I need to practice! Anyway, err, thanks for the thoughts!"

He rushed away.

_I think I have a good idea what to sing!_

* * *

"Why don't you just go tell her you like her?"

"It's complicated."

"HEY! Do you or do you not like her? Tsunemori's convinced you like her."

"WHAT?!"

Sakuragi's ears perked up.

"MITCCHI'S GONNA CONFESS?"

"Yes," Miyagi snickered.

"I'M BETTING HE'LL GET REJECTED!" howled the Foul-Out King.

"Not you too."

"Come on, it's worth a try."

"Look at yourself!"

"Why should I?"

"You got rejected ten times! Sakuragi's gotten rejected fifty times, too!"

"So what?"

"What if she does reject me? I'll lose my pride."

"Fuck that. You do know, she's all that matters. Tsunemori's told me already that women like persistent men!"

"I suppose you're not referring to yourself."

"Errrr…."

"Great. I'll just ask Gori for tips."

"Mitsui?"

"Yes?"

"Uh… Tsunemori warned me not to let you go ask Gori…" He shuddered tremendously.

"Why?"

"Because she says Gori is a complete knave about these matters."

He laughed.

"We'll see."

"What did you say, Mitsui?"

* * *

Aw. Shit.

"How do you tell a girl you like her?"

"Why are you even asking?"

The lines in his captain's face made his face resemble more a Homo Australopithecus more than a human's face.

"Because um, there's this girl. I like her…"

Damn.

The frown was escalating…

No wonder Tsunemori warned Miyagi…

* * *

She worked at it, even in classes. She worked at it so hard she forgot all about Toothless's bentos.

He'd frown at her but smile at her.

And she hated it.

It was a knife to the heart.

So she gave him her lunch wordlessly and watch him enjoy her cooking. When he said something, the words just flew past one ear and land in her unconscious. She read his lips saying her cooking was really great and that he wouldn't mind her anger but love her cooking.

But the noise she heard was overloaded.

In the lunch, she snuck in her earphones to practice her strumming with the guitar, not minding the pain in her fingers that would come with it.

* * *

"You have a song already?" Misaki asked her as they walked together to the classroom after lunch.

She nodded.

"What genre?"

Ami opened her mouth.

"Rock."

Misaki seemed so relieved.

"Great!" she chirped.

"Why?"

"I was rooting for rock. It suits your…angsty self. Besides, it'd make Miss Hyuga get bored of you faster than your boyfriend Toothless could score a perfect three-pointer. Unlike you."

_Shut up, Misa-chan._

"Thanks, I guess."

"Do you have a…um…costume?"

"Nopes."

"How about we buy later?"

"I'm busy!"

"With what?"

"Ehhh…Sports stuff."

Misaki giggled.

"Getting so physical!"

Ami scowled.

"I have a tournament, interhigh, in the same district in Friday. Tell Toothless I won't be here all day."

"Too bad!"

* * *

"WHAT?!"

"Yep."

"Really!"

She sighed.

"Can't you imagine?"

"No. I do imagine you beating them all up." He laughed.

"Shut up, Toothless."

"You're such a bully!"

"Bully for you."

"Hey, don't be negative!"

Ami stretched her arms.

"You… You've gotten a lot…more fit and taller."

"Idiot."

"What _**have**_ you been really up to, Tanaka?"

"Why don't you call me Ami?"

"Why aren't you asking my question?"

"JEEZ! I have a karate competition in Friday, Toothless. That's why you can't go home with me."

"Hmmm…"

"Why?"

"I have a doctor's appointment Friday night, too."

SHIT.

"I see," she tried, trying to be a little tensed. It failed.

"So who are you competing against with in Friday?"

"As a black belter, I'll be fighting the Shoyo people, too."

"How come you never told me?"

"Aah, you have your own battlefield."

"My friend who did karate never told me to watch him but I always did. He was amazing. Unbeatable."

"I'd be glad to meet him," she laughed.

"When's the first stage?"

"Hmmm…About Thursday. Lunch."

"Can I watch?"

"Why not?"

* * *

Thursday, he waited for her turn. Misaki began hers with Miss A's I Don't Need A Man. Rukawa was even in the class, so it was a bit awkward. Misaki really shone in the spotlight – very charismatic and powerful. And Rukawa… If he hadn't fallen asleep in the middle of his performance of CNBLUE's In My Head, he'd have gotten a good score. A few fangirls only screamed the more when he had fallen asleep in the middle of the performance, and Miss Hyuga had raged at him until some guys dragged him out of the stage.

"What a pity," one fangirl wept.

"At least our Misa-chan's better!" one rabid boy yelled.

"Enjoying?" Misaki asked him, smirking.

She wore a masculine jumpsuit, and shook off her coat.

"Kind of."

"Anyone you're expecting?"

"Yeah."

"Is it our Ami?"

"Yup. I wanted to see her perform."

He noticed Misaki giggling.

"Put a lid on it, Misaki," he barked.

"Hey! I'm not the one who's making goo-goo eyes at her."

"Jeez. Warn me if she'll wear anything that's…too indecent for my eyes. If you're making her wear something that's really indecent, I won't hesitate.."

"E-hem. Unless you want to stop playing –"

A click.

The two youngster's eyes followed the stage.

She was finally on the stage, and she looked… unlike herself. Her hair had been wrestled and styled into a clamp and that showed her hair's spiky ends and there was a small red streak that blended nicely with her hair. Her hair color seemed darknened. The light highlights he saw before on her hair were gone now, washed out by the red streak and black wash.

What she wore kind of shocked him. She looked like a rock star. She wore a red tank top. Over the red tank top, she wore a loosening black sweater tunic with the words "I AM THE BEST" printed on it in large letters, all capitalized. Her lower body was garbed in ripped jeggings that showed some parts of her pale legs. She also sported black combat boots. Around her neck, sparkled a loose necklace from which hung gold spikes.

She held a red electric guitar.

Her skin was pale against what she wore. She wore a lip balm and gold earrings.

The first notes played… And then she started to sing.

_A single piece of flower petal __  
__is swaying by my side right now._

She stared at the audience, her eyes full of emotion. Her voice was heavy and badass, and quite nice enough for him. Her strums were charismatic and she suddenly became a rocker girl.

A few guys whistled and she winked.

_"It was an erroneous love," __  
__I'd not want to think that way._

_Just from when __  
__did we start feigning ignorance __  
__of this kind of messed-up emotions?_

_In the transparent wind __  
__from that day when we first met,_

_if only we could start over, __  
__just once more __  
__I want to embrace you closely_

Suddenly, there was some kind of artificial rain.

She continued to sing.

"She's so…badass," he marveled.

Misaki snickered.

"She looks so hot here," the girl whispered.

During the minutes she performed, they became seconds to him as he watched over how she carried herself with the confidence of someone who could beat up anyone.

_Please rewind our time __  
__back the way it used to be... _

Her eyes were suddenly fixed on him, then he realized that she was looking at him sadly.

_A single piece of flower petal __  
__has fluttered down next to me just now._

_I loved you, I loved you, __  
__to that point that I want to hold you tightly even now._

Her voice was warm and then cold.

_But before my hand could reach you, __  
__you seem to be slowly disappearing from my sight._

When the last strums of the guitar was over, the artificial rain stopped.

She stepped out of the stage, her clamp away, her hair clinging to her bare shoulders. Her clothes were soaked, but she seemed very badass.

As soon as she got off the stage, she winked at Mitsui, which gave him a warm feeling.

She wasn't gonna lose so easily.

Not even to Miss Hyuga.

* * *

Friday, she was out and he sorely missed her ranting and big mouth. He felt fine knowing she could fight nicely and win.

The Kanagawa night sky felt warm around his face. The doctor had told him what he wanted to hear. He could play again! He could still do it! No doubt, Tanaka would be so happy to hear it! Despite her grumpiness and feisty ways, she could care very much.

A lone figure.

"T-Tetsuo?"

"Mitsui?"

"Is it true? I've heard rumors you were going out with that girl from Shohoku, the feisty and badass one?"

"I..I'm not going out with her. She's very kind although very violent. She's a tough girl."

Silence.

"I was just checking to see if my knee is okay…"

"You cut your hair."

He was gonna smoke, the old Tetsuo.

"You look just like a sportsman."

The big man smirked.

"Suits you more."

And there came the sirens.

With a few comments about helmets and his preference for riding without them, Tetsuo had left.

"SEE YA!"

Just like the words he had told Aoi, had he?

He ran his fingers across his scalp.

Aoi, where are you? I miss you.

_One day, there'll be a knock on the door to my heart_, some girl was singing. Rock music blared along with her.

That. Song.

Mitsui knew it.

Aoi's favorite songs. SCANDAL. Stereopony.

Perhaps it was Aoi?

_I'll be waiting for you!_

To his embarrassment, a girl just walked in front of him.

She was tall enough for a girl, and quite nicely-figured. She was wearing a loose pale blue Nike jacket unzipped over a soaked gray shirt and the pantswear of those karate guys. Her hair was tied in a loose ponytail by what seemed to be a black belt. Around her ears cuddled was a pair of earphones. She hugged an iPod that made everyone see at first glance she was playing the song SHOJO S by SCANDAL so loud anyone could hear the music even if she had the earphones.

"E-hem."

He took one earphone off her ear.

_It hasn't just about –_

Her eyes widened.

Her face and hair were pretty. Chestnut locks, smooth to look at, and her lips were chapped. Her hair was so long it went past her waist.

"Toothless?"

"TANAKA?"

"What the-?" She snorted. "What are you doing at this time of the night?"

"Doctor's appointment. I ought to ask you the same question."

She paled.

"Eh, I was coming home. The Karate Club won first place so we're competing in the interhigh and Regionals, and maybe even Nationals. Our matches were too long, I guess." She smiled. "And our coach got us some rest and food. We ate in a barbeque house."

His stomach growled.

"You hungry?"

"I…I guess."

"Then let's eat together. My treat."

* * *

When she saw the two of them in one place, there was bound to be trouble.

"So you're watching," Hasegawa told her. Making the goo-goo eyes again.

"Duh," she smirked.

"You like to bet right, Tanaka?"

"Hell yeah."

"Good one."

Wow. He seemed…so cocky today. Misaki always complained about how Hasegawa was such a monstrosity to even look at. No wonder. Even during the skip of time that had passed since Mitsui had defeated this guy, Ami knew best that Hasegawa was determined to fight him. No doubt, she thought, Hasegawa would always think Mitsui would always overtake him even in Ami's views of them.

It had been true.

"Why?" she found herself saying. From another side, she could see Mitsui eyeing her. She really felt nervous, and had unconsciously rendered out her old fiery side.

"Because if I win against him, then you won't say no to my date. You'll go out with me."

"May the best man win."

Inwardly, she cursed his cockiness today.

"Hey, Toothless!"

He grunted.

"Do your best. I'm counting on you."

As she said the words, she suddenly felt like her old self. She shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't be shy of him. What had he said? She had been his friend. She was the closest person she could be to him. Regardless of everything, the truth would have to suffice. Besides… It would make everything fit in.

As she watched him fight against his weakness, the best thing she could do was also change.

_Who am I?_

_I'm Ami Tanaka, former manager, tomboy, rocker, badass girl. I'm a black belter._

She closed her eyes.

No more holding back!

When she opened her eyes, the first thing that she noticed was how awfully long her hair was. It had gotten in her way for such a damn long time. It had gotten her from going all out on her fights. And anyone could cut it.

The hair had to go.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I hope you people get the love-triangle-thing that Hasegawa was implying. It's obvious he likes Ami a lot. This chapter was really fun to write! The song Ami was playing at the first part where she's with her guitar is That XX by that amazing guy, G-Dragon. The song she performed for the first stage of the PA test is Hitohira No Hanabira by Stereopony. The mystery about the connection with Aoi and Ami is going to be revealed in the next chapters. Please appreciate the latest happenings, especially with the intense competition! Hinthint: Ami takes a level in badassery. XD


	9. Born Behind Black Bars

**Chapter 9:** Born Behind BLACK BARS

* * *

Every _single_ day I try,

I really am almost there.

We get closer to a good time,

Say goodbye to all the hardships.

-Sexy, Free and Single, Super Junior-

* * *

"Nice game," Ami told him on the way home. Her sneakers were squeaking against the wet surface of the rain that had fallen down on the streets. Above, the sky was darkening.

"Y-You watched?" He was out of breath, probably in the locker rooms by now.

"Hell yes, you idiot."

A puff of breath.

Laughter from the locker rooms.

"So…you knew."

Yes, she had. He had fainted. It scared her. Had she trained him to be stronger? It seemed so disappointing. She knew he was hurt. But she knew he could take it like a man. Did she teach him weakness? It was her fault. She had taught him weakness. She had shown him her own insecurities.

"Yes. I know fully."

He breathed.

"Wait. I…"

"What?"

By now, she was boarding in the bullet train station.

"Wait for me. I want to see you so badly… I really want to, honest. I want to talk to you for a while."

She wanted the same.

But now, she had made her own decisions.

"So do I."

"I'm coming. Where are you now?"

"I'm… aboard the train."

"Wait for me. Please."

"I told you already."

The doors whirred, closing.

"But Tanaka, I –"

She cut him off with her phone.

_End Call._

So she had finally cut him off.

Three days, she thought hard. She left her cellphone in her closet, buried deep in the folds of clothes.

* * *

When she arrived home, she decided to cook some katsudon for her parents and to distract herself.

"How's the young man?" her mother asked pleasantly smiling as she surveyed the katsudon: the fresh broth, the good quality of meat cut and prepared, the freshness and beauty of the smooth texture of the egg in the viand.

"What young man are you talking about?" Ami deadpanned, pretending not to know the topic.

There had only been two young men who had come in.

There was Hasegawa, who seemed absolutely terrified of her parents: her fearless mother, her docile father with the constant stoic and blank countenance on his face. He'd run away from her as soon as possible and told her he was nervous of them.

"He seems nice but his face!" Ami's mother Ayumi had blanched.

Her father had nodded.

"Daughter, go for someone good-looking!"

Ami had facepalmed.

"Jeez! Do you seriously want me to get a boyfriend?"

"Of course. You're too serious," her father insisted.

And she had not relented.

When Mitsui came along, his rugged manners, her father had smiled on him and said he was more good-looking and more polite. The more polite, the more good-looking you were and the better you treated Ami made you more favorable as a boyfriend in her parents' eyes.

"Why not go out with Rukawa?" her mother had quipped.

"But he's asexual!"

"Aah, you two were good friends –"

"But all he likes is sleeping."

That had shut them up.

"Then go out with that good-looking one!"

"Huh?"

"The one you called Toothless. He seems to honestly enjoy your presence. And he was a gentleman too."

Toothless was a good candidate?

"How was the game?" Ayumi asked.

"It was…"

"What happened?" her father chirped.

"Toothless collapsed."

"But he's a basketball player, is he not?"

"Ehh, he only returned. Two years he did not play."

Her father smiled.

"Then train him! You're strong, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I guess…"

"That's settled!"

* * *

Where was that damn sakura tree? Ami fanned her face. She did not have to look in the mirror to know she looked like a pretty messed up idiot. Her long hair was really getting in her way. And her outfit was a long shirt and skinny jeans with a messy bag. Day Two of not talking to Toothless. She had welcomed Misaki in her house to practice her songs.

She had not told Mitsui all of her stories.

She had promised the guy she would read his letter.

"Damn," she grumbled under her breath.

Her phone hummed.

Toothless.

_Why aren't you answering me?_

She ignored and focused on finding the sakura tree.

It had to be here…

She sighed and remembered the first letters he had sent her.

* * *

Dear Aoi,

I'm enjoying it here. I really miss your croquets. I hope that you're also enjoying back there. It's more difficult to study here. I hope also you have a girlfriend by now.

Hisashi

* * *

Dear Hisashi,

I do not have a girlfriend. Neither will I have one. Please study hard or else I will hit you in the balls next time we meet. I told you to study. I worry for you there. If you become a gangster, dye your hair blonde and I will massacre your gang.

Aoi

* * *

Dear Aoi,

I'm never gonna become a gangster! SWEAR! Cross my heart, hope to die. How's the sakura there? Does the cook serve the same food there like before? How's Kasamatsu and Kazunari? Do they study? Who's the captain now?

Hisashi

* * *

HISASHI

WHY DID YOU SEND ME A FREAKING PICTURE OF A SNAKE? I HATE THOSE.

* * *

Dear Aoi,

I'm so sorry. It was for assignment for Science. I forgot to put it in the right place. Can you please answer my question?

Hisashi

* * *

Dear Hisashi,  
Kazunari's doing well. Kasamatsu's now the captain. He's a good worker but he doesn't beat you in looks. You're still the best guy there. I hope you work extra harder there in Shohoku. If you don't, I will make you eat old man's food and call you Dickless. Take your studying like a man, will you?

Aoi

* * *

Dear Aoi,

I'm sorry. But I got an injury. I hope to recover. Can you visit me? I want to see you so bad.

Hisashi

* * *

Dear Hisashi,

I'm sorry, but I'm busy with my karate. It seems like we're gonna make it to the Nationals. Also, I'm handling Kasamatsu and Kazunari's training regimens as well as their study habits! They're lazier than you, you know. I have to monitor them in my house.

Aoi

* * *

Dear Hisashi,

Why the heck are you not replying? You looked like you were pushing it as in last time I saw you. Do you not even grasp how much you mean to me? Damn you. Why are you not replying? Didn't we promise to write to each other? Why are you dishonoring our pact?

Aoi

* * *

Dear Hisashi,

I had to visit Kasamatsu for good look. I told him to perform well in his exam or else he will walk around naked for everyone to see. Today's lucky item is a stuffed panda. The one you gave me.

Aoi

* * *

Dear Hisashi,

I am obligated to write again. This period of you ignoring my letters disprove your pledge to me. I am so disappointed. Are you even studying? Are you even playing basketball?

Aoi

* * *

Dear Hisashi,

I grow tired of writing to you. I'll find you one day and torture you so much, I swear I'll enroll myself in Shohoku. If you do not respond, I will ignore your presence forever until I beat you myself. I am serious.

Aoi

* * *

She found the sakura tree, untouched, and clean. Just like before.

Slowly, she unearthed the egg-shaped container which held the letters they had exchanged before they had parted their ways.

It had seemed such a long time ago when she was happier, feistier and less pessimistic of life.

She pulled out the letter that contained his usual handwriting and under the tree read it.

* * *

Dear Aoi,

I know you don't act like it. I know you think that I don't see you as a true member of your gender but lately, I feel like I do. We've been good friends since childhood, and after knowing each other for such a damn long good time, it's time we are going to part. Before we part, I want to voice out my honest opinion and my last wishes for you before I go to high school.

I want you to continue being that happy person I know you. You're a fast player, you're smart. You're one of the strongest people I know and I wish you can appreciate yourself more. I think that you're one of the most hardworking people I know and I hope that whoever gets to be your lover will appreciate the small ways you provide for him or her. You're a good person. Never forget that.

Your dreams are not for sale. They belong to you. And as a dreamer, you must always believe and continue to shine under it. No one can steal it from you. No one can take it away from you. If you weather under shattering circumstances, you must be resilient. I want you to keep your dream in check.

I really like you, you know. Every day, I see you. Everyday, I try to appreciate you. Yes. You are my best friend. You're one of the people closest to me. You play basketball and do martial arts and you're a good student. You cook nicely and you eat a lot and you love pandas and the thought of a warm bath with matching food that makes you fat. I like you as a person. But more than that, I care about you. I don't wish you to waste your future on something that you don't like. You told me that work is love made visible.

I wish I can see you as a woman, Aoi. You would have made a magnificent one, it's such a pity I see you as a man more. It's not that you lack femininity. I think you have a lion's heart, and you care a lot for the basketball team, to the point you would correct our study habits. But you never showed us you were a girl, too. Was that how you loved us, so that you could never be touched?

You're a girl. I never saw you as one. I regret that I don't. I want to see you as one. That's why I'm leaving you my ID. Yes, I know what it means.

I like you as a girl. I just wish I can see you more as one. I really do. I don't see you as a girl who tries to be like everyone else.

You're special. You're unique. I think you're very cute. I want to see you as a girl, just you.

I hope to see you soon.

* * *

Someone seemed to have dug up the time capsule he and Aoi had put in. Mitsui sighed as he got his letter.

Seemed like Aoi had gotten here.

He wondered how he'd look like now.

And it seemed like Aoi had gone here, today, too.

What a damn bad time. He wanted to see Aoi.

* * *

Dear Hisashi,

I am a little nervous. I am worried. Why? You never seemed to acknowledge my gender. I am a girl, you know. And you are a handsome boy.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy your presence a lot. After all, for about ten years, we've spent time together. We've been classmates. We've been in the same team, damn. We've also shared a bath together. Remember the time, you and I shared the same hot spring? I know it seems so awkward, but I know you are not a pervert now. Yep, you've forgotten I'm a girl. When we were in the bath, you didn't look at me like a pervert. You said I looked like a boy. Yep, that's true. I'm a miserable flatty.

Haha.

What really hit me there was that you treated me fairly. You liked me, that's what. You liked my bentos. You liked my jokes. God. It seemed like you were into me. I'm the one who did your lunch. I'm the one who did your training regimen. I'm the one who analyzed everything for you. I even managed your schedule. That's because we are friends.

Up to now, you're my best friend.

That'll never change.

I'm absolutely grateful that you're nice to me and respect me a lot. Thanks for everything.

I have a secret.

Do you know?

Guess what?

I like you.

I like you as a man.

There. I said it.

Am I even a girl for you?

Aoi

* * *

"Miss Hyuga had a boyfriend. And she was supposed to debut as an idol, too."

"What happened?"

Ami rubbed her head.

"Her boyfriend was a basketball player. They planned to live together. Then her world shattered. Her boyfriend cheated on her. Her Agency wouldn't take her back."

"How do you even know that?"

She snorted.

"I researched her life. I looked her up. She was the best student in PA in her time. Very passionate, very full of life, she liked a basketball player."

Misaki chortled.

"No wonder she's said you remind her of her."

* * *

"Mikage, I think you're being too hard on the girl."

"Why am I?"

"Just because she reminds you of yourself gives you no right to fail her on purpose. Don't be too hard."

"As if, Junpei."

"Stop it. I've talked to her. She's one of my best students. That girl is a damn good writer."

"And what does she write about?"

"Basketball."

"Just like me, isn't she?"

"Yes."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Might be the last update for a month, I have reviews for college exams. I hope you pick up all the Kuroko no Basuke references as well as the tribute to Dream High and My Sassy Girl. 3 Thumbs up to you if you pick up everything referenced in there. I wonder if you get who Aoi really is and what Ami's connection to her really is. I might put a poll on what you want to happen.


	10. Run Devil Run

**Chapter 10: Run, Devil, RUN**

We're born to win  
Better tell all your friends  
'Cause we get it in  
You know the girls

-SNSD, The Boys-

* * *

Revenge. Bitterness. Coldness. Hatred. Those words tasted so sweet on her tongue weeks ago when she had met him. But now, what were her words? She had gone a long way. Karate kiddo, bent on ruining herself. She had never forgiven herself for letting him down. She had never forgiven herself for letting him love her and not see her as a woman. Unconsciously, she had become someone cold and bad.

Bad for her bad grades.

Bad and her bad temper.

Bad – with all these rumors.

What had they been? "She's asexual." "She's a lesbo." "She hates meeting people." "She's a stuck-up bitch." "She's a bitch."

She remembered her first day, and she had changed.

She had grown her hair and was very determined to find him. She tried everything her first year to find him, even going so far to risk her neck to talk to the beefy gangster upperclassmen. They had had a leader and said they didn't have time to waste on a cute girl like her. Because she was so stubborn that she snubbed everyone just to find him, it backfired. When she was introduced formally to her class, she didn't talk much. She talked only to the teacher, and the others had thought she was a sucky girl who warmed to the teacher only to get good grades. She was always reading, and "busy." Wasted her time alone on books, reading, consultation periods and karate and basketball.

She never found him.

She knew he liked her back.

_The girl he likes_, she thought bitterly as she fixed her books on her locker, _is dead_. The lockers were located outside the classrooms, in the long marble hallways. _He doesn't know, wherever he is, the girl who wrote him a letter begging him to see her as a grown woman is dead. She killed herself for him. And what did he do to repay her? He threw everything she gave him away. He wasted all her hours cooking him food, he squandered all the study hours she made him do and traded it for the life of a wastrel. He took her down, taking everything that made her her out of her system._

_She used to be good._

_But she's so bad now._

_She used to think what made him so gray was so beautiful. His obstinacy. His rugged determination. The smiles. The friendly grins. Why did she fall for him? He used her. He disrespected her wishes. _She remembers wishing him dead.

She recalled turning into gray then black. What had she looked those days? From cute little Aoi, with the short hair and the neat sporty clothes, she had changed. She wore dark blue, navy, purple, dark colors, and ate little, her hair long and down her chest. She wore it loose, waving dramatically, back then. Her sullen and cold smiles, forced on her face muscles.

And she got picked on because of her suddenly antisocial attitude.

She remembered her blood-colored nail polish which she eventually picked off her fingernails. She remembered her bitter voice, the meanness to Hasegawa and he who always apologized to her. She remembered the feel of leather on her skin, trying out a leather coat. She recalled wishing him ill, and even vandalized a locker of a second year, writing out cuss words in it and drawing his face all wrong.

_I wish you're dead._

_I want you dead._

_You scum._

_You don't deserve to live._

It had been Kogure who had seen her vandalize the locker of the upperclassman. The upperclassman had always skipped out on classes. He was some gangster, a local leader. He was charismatic, according to some. He also seemed to have no more purpose in life as well.

Just like her.

_You devil._

_I wish you'll run._

She had written those degrading words on the metal feel of the locker and its door, within its confines.

_Damn you._

_Dickless._

It had been December, the last day of school that term when she took to doing it: the vandalism. The classes had parties and she had decided to leave her classroom because she felt so suffocated. She had been feeling melancholy, and wanted to kick something. She had kicked the locker, thus opening it. What happened was that she felt possessed to take out all those anger in the world. She cut her skin with a cutter, unafraid, and she had dipped her finger.

She wrote those vandalism in scarlet plasma, dripping.

_No one will care. No one._

For a time, it was only her and her anger. Then someone stopped her, grabbed her arms, put them around her. She didn't scream, she had been numb.

She remembered a familiar voice.

"TANAKA-SAN! STOP IT!"

The vice captain.

"AKAGI! KEEP HER HANDS OFF!"

Then someone had held her up.

"Tanaka!"

Someone had bought her to the clinic to recover. Then she had felt dizzy and limp, and slept. When she had woken up, she had seen Kogure, shaking his head.

"TANAKA! What possessed you to do such a thing?"

He had been so worried.

Then everything had dawned on her at once.

Two years, she didn't cry. But she had cried that day, burying her face in Kogure's neck. Then she had begged him not to tell anyone she had cried.

She had cried the hardest.

"Tanaka-san? I want to talk to you. It's about Mitsui."

Ami glanced up.

"What about him?"

There were traces of the old coldness in her.

Why did she feel so cold?

"He seemed so upset lately. When Coach asked him what was his problem, he murmured some things and Akagi had to force it out of him. He's such a tough cookie – but in the end, it was you. He mentioned you. When I talked to him in personal, he burst out everything."

"Everything?"

Ami's belly lurched.

"He said you've been ignoring him ever since you went to watch us play Shoyo. You don't recall his texts and calls with your own. I want to talk to you about that."

Ami frowned.

Jeez.

She had had her own reasons for the separation. She wanted time alone. She had karate, especially, with the upcoming Nationals. She had had reviews on her own.

"I'm busy."

"If you were busy, then why did Misaki tell me you were available?"

Damn.

"I have karate."

"I asked your captain, Ichinose-san. He seems to have a high opinion of you. He said you were the hardest worker on the team. He said that you'd be available, too."

She frowned.

"Tanaka-san, I want you to explain yourself to me. Mitsui's a really sensitive guy. He seems so thoroughly affected by your coldness. You two were a lively pair. One would think you'd be man and wife. It's really strange."

"What if he's so worried about me? At least he's not jealous, is he?"

"Tanaka." Kogure lay a hand on her shoulders. "He's like a child, you know that, out of all the people! You and he spend the days together! He's like a child, to the point he can possibly not differentiate the real difference between romantic and platonic relationship."

Yes, Toothless did.

"He's so worried, and he seems so upset! It'd do him good to be cheered up by you! He's way more enthusiastic when you're around and besides, I want to have this sorted out. Why did you ignore him?"

"I thought I needed some time off." She inhaled. "I wanted to think about things."

"What things?"

"I wanted to think about my past, about everything… About how I've become a monster." She wiped her face sternly. "I also thought about… how hard he is, how he's so damn irrepressible. He's pushing himself, and really trying hard. I've seen how hard his life is, when I watched your game. Did you know what I felt when I saw him collapse? I felt so worried. I care about him, too, you know…" Her lips twitched. "But I should care for myself first."

Kogure nodded.

"And I thought about how he really presses me into feeling more care for myself… Maybe I shouldn't hold back on myself. I've suppressed enough hate in myself. I have too much trauma for a girl my age. I've been angry too long. I ought to take it out somewhere else." She looked at him.

Her eyes shone indigo.

"I've decided my choice. I want to be stronger. For him. I have to help him."

Kogure sighed.

"What I really want to hear from you was your view on his opinion on you. I think you don't realize it."

"Realize what? He sees me as a toy?"

"I think he maybe harboring feelings for you."

After the busy day, she started the training. Aside from the sessions with Misaki, shopping with her for black clothes, she decided to go play basketball again.

Day after day, she didn't tell Toothless. She felt tired at first, but slowly, her muscles started getting used once again to the feel of the poetry of the sport.

Back when she was playing for the girls' team, she had a Small Forward role. She didn't dance, but she was useful on court, because of some abilities. She had had good speed, good stamina, and better yet, she was renowned for her ability to replicate other's movements and reproduce them with better results.

Perfect Copy Tanaka.

Heroine Tanaka.

She smiled as she practiced her forms.

Bring the boys out.

"What song are you going to do?"

Ami sighed.

"I'm going to do something edgy. I thought about it, since the PT is about getting personal, I wanted something that really fits me. I wanted something powerful, strong, edgy."

"When's the next PT?"

Toothless smiled at her with interest.

"Tomorrow."

"Are you scared?" he joked.

"No." Ami shook her head. Her hair was styled better, wavy tendrils. She looked glowing now.

"Why?"

"I have no reason to be."

She smirked cockily.

* * *

The day of the PT, on the stage, she was the best. Misaki had passed as one of the best. But it wasn't Misaki he was looking for. It was Tanaka. Tanaka the rabid girl. Tanaka who was mad on everything she did. He had to see her. Her. Her. Her. That stubborn karateka, not Misaki. Eagerly, he saw her walk, smooth and looking hot as the sun. Her hair was loose and there were some light brown highlights that bought out her fair skin. She wore a classy tailored suit the color of her eyes, a black man's tie, a man's collar and black jeggings with boots.

The music began.

_I can tell that you're looking at me_

_Any closer and you can feel the heat._

"Is that Tanaka?"

Kogure.

"Yeah," Mitsui confirmed, his eyes fixed on her as she performed.

"She looks better than ever. Do you know that this song is supposed to be personal and this task is about bringing out a personal as well as an elegant concept in the aspect of performance?"

Mitsui shook his head.

"Nopes."

"Too bad. I chose mine as something suave so I chose BEAST's Fiction. Miss Hyuga seemed to enjoy it."

Kogure looked at Miss Hyuga. Her eyes were fixed on Tanaka, too. Beautiful, tragic, bitchy Miss Hyuga.

Something in her seemed to soften.

In the teacher's own eyes, was a pile of massing tears.

"So what do you think Tanaka is supposed to project?"

Mitsui remembered the pile of roses she had scattered earlier. He remembered the pile of hair at the floor that she threw on entering the room, golden hair.

Rapunzel.

Her shoes were mismatched.

Cinderella.

The way she carried herself. Fierce. Edgy. Feminine. Brave. Beautiful Tanaka.

"Courage."

"Close."

Kogure nodded at Miss Hyuga, who was wiping an eye.

"Then what?"

"A heroine who conquers her struggles, knows she can fly and shine, that she can conquer history little by little. She wants to bring the boys out."

That moment, he realized that unconsciously the rude girl he had known had bloomed into a beautiful woman who would be great.

* * *

"Who's your next opponent?"

"Kainan."

Tanaka pouted.

"Kainan's really strong," she offered.

"We can take it."

"Sure, you can. But work harder."

* * *

That weekend, he had gone out for snacks at the local snack bar with her, after the weekend's daily routine. Jogging with her. Playing with her. She made him do push-ups. She made him stand all day, till his bones ached. She made him do martial arts stuff that made your body hurt all over black and blue.

But nothing had made him more dismal.

He was glad to see her open up.

"Misaki."

There. Right there, he was. Facing the busty girl in the hallways. The demonic Misaki Tsunemori in her all-out blaze of intelligence, cruelty and vivacity.

"What? You gonna tell me you like me?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"I'd like to say thank you. Thank you for helping Tanaka. I'm glad you made her bloom so well."

"Told you so."

* * *

The next week, Misaki Tsunemori announced she would be running for Student Council president despite her young age.

The school got busy.

The days were ticking past, and suddenly, the leaves of the trees… They just didn't seem so happy anymore. He spent time with her, and enjoyed her presence, the part she played in the routine of his life. It had been some time like this, before.

He had Aoi, now he had her.

He had a dream, and he was beginning to chase for it.

"Are you voting Misaki?" he asked her one day while eating lunch.

"Why?"

"Curious."

"Ohhhh…"

"Well?"

"Eh.. She's not bad. She's damn good. She's responsible, overachieving… The works. She's a good class rep, and she's really scary, too."

Scary, no doubt at all.

"And compromising," Mitsui added.

"How would someone like you know, Toothless?" she asked, looking up with a frown in her voice. "You're this guy who seems to have no goal in life but play basketball and chase after broken things that you lost."

"I lost everything. I'm not willing to lose them again, Tanaka."

"What did you lost the most?"

"I lost the will to live and smile again. I thought life was not worth living without basketball. I sank into despair and such a sin was almost unforgivable. I lost my dearest friend to the point I forgot my promises to him that I would study and work hard for his sake. I never saw him again."

"So you had someone, too?"

"Of course, I did."

His smile was sober.

"We were childhood friends, we were pretty close and I didn't see him as someone I'd want to leave behind. I wanted to live with him, be a family with him, live in the same neighborhood with him when we would settle once we got older and started getting wives. It takes time to know a man."

"As a man would know a woman."

"I don't know. I've never chased anyone seriously."

"Say, you wanted to chase after someone, someone you wanted to be yours. How would that person fit your idea as someone you want to chase after?"

"Someone cute, not too ugly, not too beautiful. Someone kind to me and will gladly make me my meals. Someone I can trust easily."

He sighed.

"Someone who will listen to me."

"Whoa."

"Hey!"

"I didn't expect that. I thought you wanted some cute nice girl with nice legs like Hyuna. Physically, what's your type?"

"Hmmm… Blue eyes, pretty hair, small waist, long legs. Lean and strong. Not too skinny, not too fat."

"I see. Found anyone you like?"

"Maybe."

Shit. Kogure was right.

* * *

The first day after that, Tanaka basically ignored him again. She was strange, moody, suddenly so quiet. Sometimes, she'd speak for a little. When Mitsui tried to bribe her into talking by offering her some burgers he'd gotten from Kogure's table, she didn't say anything.

* * *

Day two.

He decided to go ask Suwabe-sensei what was happening with her. Of course, he was no idiot. Mitsui knew the old man well enough.

Not that Suwabe was really old, too. About some years doubled and added, but young and good-looking enough to woo the girls' hearts into fangirling and such. He was a tall man, clean-shaven and formal enough to be mistaken as the heartthrob coach of some big-shot basketball team. He taught exceptionally well, and was a smart guy, although he didn't seem like it from looks and the way he sometimes joked. The man was nice to talk to, relateable.

Kogure had liked him as a teacher, too.

Suwabe taught English, Literature, and as a substitute sometimes for PE if the teacher was absent or just well, missing in action. Many girls liked him. Most boys wanted to be him. He had this array of rugged locks that fell across his smooth alabaster brow like silk in soft tendrils. Out of the classroom, he was known to be really athletic, rugged but polished enough to be acknowledged universally as a force of an intellectual man.

To say that Tanaka had gotten his attention was no joke. For some reason, he had heard, the teacher was impressed with her and often spent time together reading and poring over old books, chatting about karate and sports. They talked like old friends. With Hyuga-sensei, it was another story. She frowned at him coldly, and kept her head high. To say she disliked him was a mere understatement. To say she detested him and loathed him was the truth.

"Anyone she's close to?"

"Hmmm, I'd say Suwabe-sensei."

"Huh?!"

"Yes, that's it. He looks at her as if she's going to win the Pulitzer Prize, I've heard. The man dotes on her."

"How would you know?"

"I know her a lot better. I'm also aware of everything about her activities. I also watch out for her." Kogure tapped the piece of metal that held the two lenses in their place in his glasses.

"Why you? What is she to you, I mean, why –"

"I'm also taking care of her. Misaki wanted me to. She's a good friend to me, and I've been doing what I can to help her. The girl needs friends so I offered my help."

"But Suwabe –"

"Yes, they do. Go ask him. The man doesn't go a whole week without mentioning and talking to her."

When he got Suwabe-sensei, the teacher asked if he was Tanaka's boyfriend, which was awkward. After brushing the comment off, he inquired about her status, at least.

"She said she's busy working on something for me."

"Something for you?"

"Yes."

"What is it, then?"

"It's something she wrote especially."

_She wrote… She did…_

He had seen her eyes squint, her attention all on a pen and paper, scratching words, making meanings of the empty spaces in her imagination. Her concentration was strong.

He had seen that strength: the physical, the strong power of her will, and the utter despair of her hate. She could be weak – she was ill-tempered, quick to fire, callous, aimless. Fickle.

Hate and depression.

_Like Aoi did._

Aoi had always been writing.

"What is it about?"

"Basketball."

"_Basketball," Aoi told him with a smile._

Something clicked.

…

Wait.

…

Was she really Aoi?

...

Aoi wouldn't be like that, would she?

Day three. He decided to go get his research done. He went around school asking for old pictures of Tanaka.

By the time the day was over, he had over a dozen pictures.

All were courtesy of Ryota, Ayako, Misaki, Kogure and Rukawa, for some reason.

* * *

Days became a week.

A week became two weeks.

Two weeks later, he was done.

And funny enough, she wanted to talk with him the day he realized something.

She was there, her hair brushed and tied nicely. She looked neat and small, looking for a missing labyrinth.

"Oi, Toothless!"

The clutch she held on to her bag tightened.

"Hmmm?"

"Can you go with me? Let's eat ramen out together."

Suddenly, she grabbed on him and dragged him away. Behind him, he could swear **someone** was watching.

Would it be a date?

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Sorry for the delays! I hope the readers will enjoy this. Hopefully, I think the puzzle is almost getting solved. Thanks for the support.

**Edit:** I edited a bit, since some parts seem redundant, and I'm planning to update the chapters, hopefully.


	11. You Can FEEL It

**Chapter 11: You Can Feel It**

* * *

_I can't believe in you._

-Re:make, ONE OK ROCK-

* * *

"Mikage, what grade are you going to give the girl?"

In the rare afternoon silence of the membrane of the teacher's faculty room, there lived two beings. They were a part of the faculty room, hidden in the shadows. Personal computers are open and running, two people on a desperate marathon to get the grades up and going as well as set up powerpoint presentations, tons of lesson plans to do and be checked by the school higher-ups.

A woman in her mid-twenties' frowns. She wore black all over, her hair cut short. Her face was a layer of smooth silk trembling facelessly on a bed of glass and wood.

"Who?"

"You know. Tanaka."

"Ah, your little pet. The one with the basketball player friend."

Mikage's lips twitched.

"Ahh."

"How did she do in the two performances? I want a good rundown. I hope she's not wasting your time. I think she'd do a fine job. You're keeping her busy. Your work has made her isolated from the world."

"Me? Why would I do that, Junpei?"

"You of all people."

Junpei ground his teeth in frustration.

"You know very well. Tanaka is just a high school girl. Her hands are clean. She hasn't done anything wrong."

"Done anything wrong? Have you or have you not looked at her records? Heard rumors? You know she does."

"There's been word that Third Year, the Basketball Club's vice captain had to calm her down. She was vandalizing some property last year."

"How would you even –"

"I have my spies. My spiders. I'm not interested in pretty words. I have her dirt, and none of mine."

"Past is past."

Mikage gave a cruel little laugh.

"That girl is violent. Did you not know? She was writing curse words on an upperclassman's locker. And you know what was she using to do it?"

"Mikage, stop-"

"Blood, Junpei! BLOOD!"

Junpei froze.

"Leave her alone. She's fine now. Much, much better."

"I don't care! She knows her place."

"Maybe you're the one who should."

"You're impossible." She pursed her lips. "But back then, you've always been. It surprised me you didn't even head as an Assistant Coach of the Basketball Club. Always rambling about that. That stupid game, the insipidity of reading and analyzing everything our Literature teacher gave us ahead. Now that I think about it, it's ridiculous."

Junpei grit his teeth, the mask called "Suwabe-sensei" slipping off with every second that came. Suddenly, it was a man who had once loved a woman – as well as basketball and books. A man with honor, and love.

"And you? I tolerated your nagging," he sighed. "I thought I knew you so well."

"For once, you're right."

"Huh?"

"Yes, you thought I did. And see what's happened? Past has happened. And it's going to repeat itself."

"Ah."

"That girl will be Tanaka. The idiot boy is that obstinate Third Year who can't dance to save his life."

"But he can sure shoot," Junpei smirked. "That boy, I tell you, will be big. If he goes to compete in the Winter Cup, then he'll be someone to watch. He can have the will. I was the same once."

"Tch."

"He can sing. He can rap. I bet my money on it." He frowned. "So how did Tanaka do?"

Mikage wiped her face with her pale hands.

"That girl…"

"Well?"

"She's a strong candidate." She scowls bitterly. "Happy? I meant to break her on purpose! I wanted her to fail! I wanted her to crack open like I did. I wanted her to die to her loneliness, to everything I lost. It's not fair!"

"Wait…"

"YES!"

"Huh?"

"She survived! She got a perfect score on BOTH performances! Her performances… They insulted me! She's been working her ass off just for my subject?!"

"How did her performances insult you?"

"Her first song was 'Hitohira no Hanabira.'"

"No wonder."*

He snickered.

"What about the next one?"

Mikage hit her head subtly on the desk before her. Her hair was now short, ever since the incident. She used to have so pretty hair – styled and curled, played around with. Her hair was very long, past her waist. He remembered loving her hair and admiring her hair, all in the yesteryears.

"The Boys by Girls' Generation."

"Excuse me?!"

The image of Tanaka garbed up and costumed to the SNSD song was hardly conjuring up in his brain. She didn't seem to be the image of what the SNSD stood for: cute, beautiful, graceful, long-legged, fierce and gentle at the same time. Tanaka was hardly that. Callous, grim, patient and steely, her will of a man's than a woman. A gloomy man destined to a tragic fate with the girlish cheer that made ghosts rise up from their graves. Her looks and personality was a sakura blossom looming between sudden death and happiness. Kushinada in a grim masculine girl.

She was fierce, but haunted by a darkness. There were times he could tell the sun shined on her, a long long time ago. Surely, she had loved once.

Basketball, included.

In The Boys, they were heroines. Glossed, glittered, their strengths evident in the garb of dress. Fierce. They were Daenerys Targaryen risen from the ashes. They were the Queens Militant of life, overcoming all their hurdles in one piece. Manly and feminine. Two in one. The animus and anima, yin and yang.

Tanaka?

"If you really can't believe it, then see."

Mikage produced her laptop and clicked on a file.

There.

She was there.

Tanaka didn't look like the sullen teenager he knew. She was awkward, gawky, robotic-faced.. But the Tanaka on the screen was living up to her name. Asian beauty, huh? She really proved herself to be a beauty, the kind of traditional beauty people failed to see in her whenever she was in her sullen and awkward state. Her hair was curled, like the SNSD girls, floating around her in a deep brown and black halo. Styled better than ever. It was nicer to see her so beautiful, her indigo eyes glowing. And she wore blue and black, all masculine. But the way she carried herself was the way a queen would.

Her style was masculine, toned down by her eyes, feminine.

She was not a queen.

She was a goddess.

Seeing her dressed up and styled, looking so neat and earnest in her song and dance reminded him of old memories.

Mikage with long hair, with the same tint on her hair.

Mikage eyeing a basketball like a child.

Mikage sleeping in his basketball jersey, on the train after her training was over.

The smell of basketball player sweat.

The ferocity of a performer.

Gangsters.

Nostalgia hit him like a wave.

His little Tanaka was growing up.

"She's no longer a girl, is she?" he whispered.

"I think so. The Boys seems a rather mature choice for her."

"Of course it is. She's no longer a writer, my dear," Junpei drawled.

"Then who is she?"

"She's the protagonist of her own life."

"A heroine?"

"Yes."

And Junpei felt relieved.

[-]

Waiting was for women.

Ami certainly felt its brunt today. She had been doing it, she realized. For a long time. It was time to take matters into her own hands. She was going to be a heroine for once. Nothing would stop her. She had to be in her peak form again. That way, she wouldn't be so alone. That way, she could stand on her own. No more waiting. No more pissing.

So when Toothless appeared, it cheered her up.

"Who's going to pay?" Ami asked, as the orders for miso and beef ramen came to their place. They were eating at mid-afternoon, the only two customers in the nearest ramen place by the school. The two of them. All alone.

All of a sudden, her heart was a drum.

"Me. I'm the man here. I owe you as much."

Ami blushed and looked away.

"I just felt like eating ramen. I was bored."

"So your training with Misaki-san is over?"

"Uh, yes."

"GREAT!"

"Huh?"

She frowned.

Wait.

Why was Toothless suddenly so interested in her?

"I wanted to hang out with you, you know," he began tersely. His eyes were shining. God. Why was he staring at her like that? It was kind of creepy.

"Hang out?"

"Yeah! I want to play and train with you! I feel stronger with you! I want to take you to an arcade. Hotta's always busy," he pouted like a child.

"Play?"

Ami feigned innocence.

"YES! I want to see you play! I bet your agility will be good!"

"I'm sorry, Toothless," Ami began. She took a deep breath. This had to be broken down. Could he feel it? Everything? The bitter truth? The beating of her heart? The depth of the train of her thoughts? It was time. Time and time again. She had broken so much hearts. She had to try.

Had he seen her fall?

"But what, Tanaka?"

Now longer Ugly?

"I-I don't play anymore," Ami declared.

To her surprise, he grinned at her.

"Easy. I'll get you playing in no time. I bet you'd do formless shots."

[-]

Mitsui felt her eyes on him. It was creepy, but somehow, his inner told him he was happy she was staring at him. When he passed the ball, there was the feeling of being watched – as well as the feeling of being admired. To be fawned on. To be adored. To be loved. Surely, how did Tanaka look on him? He knew Akagi's little sister looked at Rukawa, all smiles and love. But Tanaka was another breed of girl. Ayako was all sass; Haruko was sweetness and smiles.

Tanaka was words, rough and sometimes smooth.

Sullen. Callous, steely, stubborn.

Interesting.

The days to the Kainan game fell.

She was looking at him more and more.

As he shot his three-pointers, he wished she would notice everything. He wished she saw how hard he pushed himself. He wanted her to see him as a man. He wanted her to see how hard he fell at times. He wished that she would notice everything. He wanted her eyes on him, not just anyone else. To his disappointment, Kogure was someone she talked to.

"…has he been working hard?"

"Yup."

"Are you a couple?" Sakuragi called nonchalantly.

She shut him up with a stern look. Her hair was wavy, wrestled into a sideways ponytail on her shoulder.

"Shut your mouth or else."

Some things don't change.

And so, Sakuragi got a hit on the head.

"Rukawa?"

Rukawa looked at him oddly. "What?" The question came automatically, in his drawl.

"Why do you have Tanaka's photo with you? The photo taken when she was in her middle school?"

Rukawa wiped his face with his hand.

"Ohh… I see."

OH GOD.

Was he seriously monotone that way?

"Well?"

"She and I were childhood playmates. Our parents…were friends. We used to write to each other during middle school and she sent me her photo."

Okay…

"How were your parents even friends?"

Rukawa was still monotone.

"Her mother knew my father and mother. Went to the same elementary school as my mother, the same middle and high school as my father. Her father was my dad's good friend."

"So I see."

"I've heard you're going out with Tanaka."

"Not true."

"Then why do I see you sneaking with her last night to the ramen place?"

"Excuse me?!"

"It's not my fault, I suppose. You two… Are you even going out at all?"

"We're just friends. Good friends. And why ought you to care? I don't even notice you talking to her at all!"

"Because Misaki's her friend. And Misaki is my friend, too. And Tanaka? She's an old friend. Even childhood friends need to be concerned, especially with everything. Coach has an eye on her. Everyone is talking."

"Do you see her that way?"

"Tch. Never. Too me, she's always the same old Ami. If you ask, me she's not my type; I would rather go out wth Misaki."

Oh, God, That must have been the longest sentence he ever said spoken; the apocalypse must be today! Damn it; he hasn't prepared his survival kit yet!

"Wait…"

Ami?

"Don't you know? It's her given name!"

Weird.

[-]

"Yup, I'm pretty much running for the position," Misaki herself confirmed when Akagi asked her if the rumors are true. The Student Council Election was not yet on the brink, but here she was: suddenly announcing her affiliation and loyalty to her own banner. She would run. She would be an officer. Of course, she had a high caliber ethic and that seemed to make her think she was indeed worthy of such a great honor.

Her eyes shone, her skin glowed. She was looking the very picture of the Misaki Ayuzawa devil president. Said girl was starting to look creepier by the minute.

"Are you even serious?"

"Of course. I've been officer for years. Ever since elementary. Trust me. I can handle it. Everything."

"Prove it," the gorilla declared, not letting his ego get smashed by this busty freshman. "You're just a first year. You can't seriously do that. Some Third Years won't be happy about it. Usually, it's the Second Years who run for a decent position.

"Trust me."

"That's good!"

Gori's face twitched.

"What's your quiz average today?"

"Oh, I have 85%, I believe."

He nodded on.

"You need a 100% to get into the SC. I have 99.5%."

Misaki tossed her pretty hair over her shoulders.

"Bring it on, Gorilla!"

"NOT YOU TOO!"

[-]

At one point, he had to lose. Everyone, he supposed had to lose. Games were lost. Spirits were taken away, lost in the wave of defeat. Spirits crumbled down and took along morale with it. The game was over, and it was hell to pay. It was their first humiliation as a team. The loss to Kainan was terrible.

He couldn't believe it.

As he left the station, he felt so down. When was he last like this? Was it his fault? Did he bring the team down? What the fuck was even happening?

Whose fault was it?

He resented himself for it. He hated everything. His tears. Akagi's tears. Rukawa's silent sobs. Sakuragi's annoying wails. Miyagi's sniffles.

Gone.

Dead.

Blown away.

Deep doo-doo.

The balance was tipped, he thought bitterly. What happened to them? They had been so close. So close to getting to the Nationals. They had to do it, right? He had to give himself to it anymore. He couldn't believe it. Did he hate basketball now? Did his heart stop functioning when the victory was his? What was the thing wrong with them? He didn't want to think of it. What would he tell Tanaka?

Surely, it'd break her small heart. How much had her heart suffered?

_Once upon a time, she had been happy. Once upon a time, she had loved basketball. One that time was over, it left her broken like this. It had left her angry. It had left her so weak and callous around her environment. It made her bitter, clench her teeth. _He wanted her smile. He wanted her. He wanted her to laugh, to tease him, to give him the warmth that made her grin and tease him endlessly. Her colorful complains of Gori, her strength. Tanaka would be crushed.

"_I no longer play."_

The night light and the song of the crickets became the night. He was going home, right? But something caught his eye. The sounds of basketball sneakers squeaking against the floor. The thump of the basketball. And the wet and long sounds of three-pointers. Huffing. Puffing. Boyish ones.

Why did he go back? He loved basketball, he loved Anzai like a father. The old man meant so much to him. He respected the coach to the point he even cut his hair for it. He loved the old man, he loved the sport. And why did he hate basketball? Why? He had lost the will for it. He had lost his footing, keeping up all the time. But like a kid, he remembered how much he missed it. He loved it so much.

_I love basketball. My dream is not for sale._

He smiled to himself.

What a parallel and what a paradox. He had gotten angry once on the beach because of basketball. He had realized how much he missed it.

He loved it.

Surely, Tanaka had loved it so much.

He started walking to the sound of the ball. It called his name. It wanted him. The red thread of fate, the paradoxical circrumstances. He wanted to laugh, but this occasion was not fun. It was serious. It was required. He wasn't planning to let his guard slip.

[-]

_First day and accidents happened._

"_OUCH!" A squeaky voice yelled. Meanwhile, a basketball fell to the floor, bouncing. _

_The owner of the yell was a small androgynous shape, with neatly cut short chestnut hair. A pair of indigo eyes shone with irritation._

"_TANAKA!" _

_The yeller's eyes widened, making the yeller look helpless. The yeller was quite skinny, tall, clad in a jacket covering its uniform, and white pants – the one karatekas wore. Tied around the karateka's waist was a brown belt. _

"_Yes – Eh – Mitsui-kun?!"_

_Out came the tall player, all smiles and goofy grins._

_Hisashi Mitsui was just a Second Year middle schooler at that time. He was fast. He was strong. And he knew the ._

"_You know him?" whispered a fellow basketball club member, shocked. How could a small karateka who seemed so squeamish know their good-looking captain? _

"_Y-Yeah!" Mitsui held up a hand. "We used to play basketball together when we were kids! I didn't know you were here for middle school, Tanaka!"_

"_Yeah! I came for the school's Karate Club," Tanaka laughed. The karateka grinned at him._

"_Tanaka, join the club! You're good!" the captain begged._

_Tanaka sighed._

"_MITSUI-KUN!"_

"_PLEASE! We don't have a manager yet!"_

"_E-Eh?!"_

_For a moment, Tanaka smiled._

"_Then I'll be your manager!"_

"_GREAT!"_

[~]

Under the light, the player was lithe, sweaty. Indigo eyes blazed with the menace of a monster. Long hair the color of chestnut spilled from a loosening bun. Long legs, standing. Pale skin, indigo eyes. The person held a basketball.

"Tanaka?"

Suddenly, he had no idea whether to feel angry or happy or just pissed. Did she lie to him?

"I thought you no longer played basketball!"

Tanaka sighed. She was sweaty, hot and obviously scary. From the distance, there was something menacing about her. Her body was wet with sweat, perspiration flowing everywhere. Her eyes flashed. Her expression was fierce. And she had force. Speed. Force. Power.

"That's what I told you. You never asked. I was cooling off my steam." She wiped her face earnestly. "How about you?"

"Me…"

"You won?"

In the darkness, her eyes became much softer. For a minute, he didn't wish to break her heart. He had wanted her to be happy.

"No."

"Do you feel like hating basketball?" She tossed the ball to him, which he quickly got.

"No." He sighed. "Play with me."

"Excuse me?"

"I want to see how well you do. You have no idea how happy I am today. I wanted to play you."

She smirked, and then they got started.

[-]

_A good two months into time, Tanaka changed. He also learned basketball. Because of his fierce blue eyes that changed during play, the team called the karateka "Aoi," after those mysterious indigo eyes. After two months, Aoi was taller. A little leaner, and much more warm._

"_I want to see how well you've gone, Aoi!" called Mitsui._

"_Me? I can only shoot short-distance ones!" Aoi pouted._

"_No problem!"_

_When they got to court, their bodies changed. Around them, the ball was all running. It flew. It absconded in the power of the force of the sport. _

_Mitsui got the ball, and jumped._

_A trump card._

_It'll go in, he thought, as he jumped. He put his hands overhead, in the aerial thrill of the thing called shooting. His shoots were fast, accurate. Physical. Psychological. The thrill of the adrenaline, the sweat, the running. The smell. Basketball. _

"_Not so fast!"_

_AOI?_

_Mitsui smirked, and his feet hit the floor._

"_A fake?" Aoi cried, his eyes fierce._

_As Mitsui proceeded to go from the inner to the outer court to go score near the backboard, behind him, followed the squeaking of shoes._

"_He's one of the best!" one huffed._

"_I WON'T LET HIM!" yelled Aoi. _

_For the new five minutes that came, the players tried to keep up with him. They tried zone defense. They tried full court and tried everything. But no one could beat him. He was the best, the first to bloom. Even Aoi, he thought, wouldn't be able to beat him. _

_For the fifth time, Mitsui stole the ball, and came charging into the backboard. _

"_JEEZ!" huffed Kasamatsu, a First Year who played Point Guard. He had closely-cropped deep brown-black hair. Beside him, squinty-eyed Kazunari Jun sniffed in annoyance. Both First Years, both of them classmates of Aoi's. _

"_Guard him!" yelled Kasamatsu. His order was addressed to Kazunari._

"_NO!" a third voice interrupted._

_The two looked and saw Aoi grinding his teeth._

"_Let. Me. Guard. Him," Aoi insisted. "I'm faster than you. I have better stamina than you. I'm a karateka, and I know him. I can jump as well as him!"_

"_Fine," huffed Kazunari._

_As Aoi ran faster, Mitsui smirked._

"_Think you can beat me?"_

"_YES!"_

_He sped past Aoi. _

_Weak._

_He held the ball up, ready to do a lay-up._

"_I told you so."_

_AOI?! _

_In the air, Aoi slapped the ball from Mitsui's hand. He was the first to land, and Kazunari managed to do a three-pointer from the slap Aoi had created. After the ball slipped from Kazunari's lengthy three-pointer, it bounced and bounced until –_

_Aoi charged in, and getting the ball, he jumped._

_Suddenly everything became quiet. His eyes became focused, an intense indigo. He flew, existing in the basketball realm. His hand scooped, nearer. Nearer. The backboard._

_SLAM!  
The ball hit in, but many still gasped –_

_Aoi hung from the backboard, clinging. On the floor, his sweat fell in large mounds. _

No one had done that before. No one but me,_ Mitsui thought._ _As he observed Aoi, he noticed the pile of sweat piling up. The effort to beat him and catch on him, he realized, had been a lot of effort. A lot of work. Aoi was losing gas, but it was amazing. A First Year, doing that! His buzzer beater was amazing, but his body wasn't exactly ready for it. _

_In spite of Aoi's brown karate belt, he was still a middle schooler. Surely, he had overexerted everything. He had forced himself on it. And the effort cost him twice as much force as he usually did. His moves… They were quick, smooth.. Catlike. Full of reflex and minimalistic strength. A samurai's cutting move. The move of a reflexive samurai. His basketball was refined, analytical and reflexive._

_Aoi landed on the floor, his face wet._

"_Aoi…"_

_Aoi scowled.  
_

"_I'm fine, Mitsui-kun."_

_Aoi suddenly became threat, a rival._

[-]

Weird.

How she played.

Catlike. Reflexes. Speedy. Fast. Quick. Sharp. Accurate. The play Tanaka made was familiar. A taste of basketball that was suited to copy and also run and gun. She had stolen the ball, but he had stolen it again. She didn't catch him so well – but after the second time he scored a three-pointer, she smirked.

Her eyes blazed.

She got the rebound and sped away. He tried to put up his defense, but she was too fast for him.

A screen.

A formless shot.

He got the ball and continued the mental skirmish.

He scored a three-pointer and once they two were on the floor, the stakes went higher. She got the ball, her eyes blazing, and ran.

He followed to guard her, and then she jumped.

He flew with her, and once he saw her raising up her arms, he knew what to do. He hit her, but then something made him irate. She had shoved the ball on her arms to her sides, still in the aerial view. Fake. Once they were lowering, her arm extended. From her back, she let her arm throw the red sphere in the air, every degree landing them closer and closer to the steadfast ground.

Another score.

He got the ball, and this time, Tanaka was stricter on her defense. She went around him, her movements quick and catlike. Then he jumped to score –

Tanaka followed.

He let the ball go, and it spun to hit the basket, falling right in. Far away from him. Far away from Tanaka, her arm raised so she could catch the ball. But she had never done it. For it had landed already.

She tried scoring another time, formless, like the one he did. For the next minutes, time was nothing. They all played run and gun, chasing and catching scores that kept alternating between them.

His time to shoot.

He jumped, eager to repay her her buzzer beater back, and then he saw her, jumping with him. He held the ball – then Tanaka was suddenly grasping it, too. Her eyes were manic, her eyes fierce, her body menacing and threatening and fierce. She was fire, and he was the cool waves of water, urging its waves to fan away the flames. Sweat poured from their bodies, urgent and angry. As they held the ball, their bodies wanted dominance.

He fought her – and he won, slamming the ball into the basket.

Suddenly, Tanaka was falling – and she hit the floor.

Suddenly, the recollection became so familiar.

What happened?

"TANAKA!" he blurted, and ran to her, where her body hung limp on the floor. The effort had broken her scrunchie, letting her hair burst in all directions, from one thick chestnut mane. Her eyes were constant, a creepy countenance of the deep indigo.

He extended his hand.

"Tanaka, you okay?"

She held his hand and took it. She stood up, and smiled.

[-]

"What made you hate basketball?"

They were walking together, his arm resting around her shoulders.

"Losing," she began. "And this guy… He hated it, so I started hating it, too. He made me love basketball. But then, it's a stupid thing. I realized I loved it, too."

"Do you still hate it?"

"No. I think it only made me love it the more."

She laughed.

For once, he was contented.

* * *

[-]

-*-What Suwabe-sensei refers to is the song's meaning. The song is actually about a girl reminiscing about her ex-lover among the sakura.

**Notes:** The one-on-ones were inspired by Kuroko no Basuke. XD Actually, a KnB AMV with the song Re:make made me do this chappie. I hope the readers will love Gori and Misaki's interaction and the basketball scenes.


	12. Making Me INSANE

**Chapter 12: Making Me INSANE**

* * *

Yes there are a lot of pretty girls in the world, but you're different from them  
Everyone admits it, but you know, you're just too pretty  
I don't know why but I feel like your long straight hair would smell like flowers  
This is insane, you're making me crazy

-Ms. Right, Teen Top-

* * *

_To: __mrsimple .jp_

_From: eastofthesun .jp  
_

_Aoi, I want to see you. Aoi, where are you? Do you have a boyfriend now? Does Kazunari still see you? Does he like you like the way I do? Do your parents allow you to see Kasamatsu and Kazunari? Where are you studying now?_

Mitsui eyed the blinking computer screen in front of him.

_Do you see me nowadays? Even on the court? Even on the Interhigh games. We're playing a lot of teams. I'm not as good as before. I'm weaker and the freshmen have bigger muscles than I do, but it's not enough. I've wasted almost two years NOT playing. I'm so sorry if I failed to fulfill my promises to you. You have no idea what happened to me. Please. Let me explain._

_I hated basketball those years I never saw you._

_I thought you made me love basketball._

_But I realized I loved basketball on my own._

_So please._

_Let's meet. Let's talk. Let's hang out. We'll go play on the arcade, take pictures. I want your number back. Let's talk. _

He sighed.

_I miss you. You have no idea how._

The Send button smiled at him. It glowed with the promises of the past. He wanted Aoi back. Aoi smiling. His glory days back. No more dawdling. No more addressing stupidity. He wanted to be at his peak form.

_What's supposed to happen then, Hisashi?_ He asked himself. _Should I wait for Aoi? Let Aoi see me?_

Ugh.

Tanaka.

Aoi.

Two people.

They conflicted his view.

Aoi, nurturing and supporting. Aoi's grins-cheered him on when he was down. Aoi's bentos. Aoi's gentle nature. A rub on the shoulder. A peck on the cheek. It was innocence. His rivalry with Aoi. He respected Aoi and Aoi respected him.

Aoi was light and shadow.

The sun.

Tanaka was callous. Tanaka was fierce. Tanaka was lightning and water, angry and ready to pore over when times were tough. Her concentration was intense, her strength uncontested and tested through steel and wood. Where Aoi was all gentleness and tenderness, Tanaka had both sweetness, sourness and bitterness written all over her. Her powers were strong but untamed, unruly. Her concentration was wasted, her anger losses on rocks that lay beyond reaching. Tanaka was a comfort.

Her words were fire and water. Her eyes were liquid, always in motion. And her smile… He had seldom seen her smile. When she smiled, she became the sun. Tanaka was a haunted being, a goddess who didn't realize her worth.

Tanaka had a pull on him. She was a magnet he felt being attracted to.

Tanaka needed him as a friend.

She didn't see him as a man. She challenged him on, but smiled like an old man, a friend's grin. The way it appealed to him, she saw him as a friend she needed. She ranted about Gori. She ranted on about Sakuragi.

And she never asked him to go out with her in a romantic way.

She had lied to him.

She had tricked him.

But he never saw her as one to do that.

She was just being weak. She had no idea how strong she could be.

All his life, what did he think of all those times he had seen Aoi?

A childhood friend.

A memory.

He thought that the first time he'd slept with someone would be Aoi, when they would be much older.

It seemed like it wasn't.

Aoi suddenly disappeared.

And then came this angry karateka who didn't know how capable she could be.

This angry girl grew up.

Suddenly, she had a guy who wanted her. Suddenly, she was a fighting girl who fought in karate tournaments. Suddenly, she had liked someone who didn't pay attention to her. Suddenly, she was fighting for her grades. Suddenly, he was going to be her friend.

Then all of a sudden, she was a goddess.

Her hips moved, her hair styled and her lips were painted red. She danced with the dark and dared to be one of the boys.

Memories.

Lights.

The thud of a Shakespeare book.

The falling of a sakura petal to the ground.

Who did he belong with?

He was being unfaithful to Aoi's memory.

The phone rang.

When he checked the caller ID, it was no joke: Gori. Reluctantly, he put the phone to his ear.

"Who is this?"

"AAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Female screaming.

Wait. Was it Haruko? Was it Misaki?

"I'm the one talking!" Akagi snapped.

"Excuse me?" Mitsui huffed into the phone.

"Misaki-san's decided to do us some cheering up, apparently," Akagi explained. In the background, Haruko and Misaki were screaming on the top of their lungs. "She's gotten the whole team tickets – and invited some girls along."

A date?

Not a bad prospect.

"Misaki got Haruko and herself, and Ayako. Guess who's the last girl."

"Aoi –"

"Your little friend. The one who complains about me all the time."

"WAIT. You invited TANAKA?!"

"Of course. A lot wanted to meet her."

"Ehh-"

"Well? No complains! Misaki had to top all her batchmates just to get us these tickets."

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

_From: __mrsimple .jp_

_To: __eastofthesun .jp_

_Hey._

_How are you? It's been years since we last talked. I don't know what topic to bring up with you nowadays. Oh, sorry. We never talked. So what now? ;A;_

* * *

Unsaved messages. Unsent emails.

Mitsui sighed to himself as he set on the long walk to the train station. The team was going to meet with the girls on the _onsen_ itself, since Akagi was so pissy with the whole shebang and that it was unfortunately on the last minute.

The road was foggy, with smoke blowing off.

The train tracks were visible. It separated him from the other side of the road. Above, the azure sky gleamed with the promises of tomorrow and sad nostalgia. Out of the blue, a dark shape started to come closer.

The shape grew more visible.

His eyes glued to the shape.

Something caught him.

It was the shape.

A tall person, with somehow androgynous features, long chestnut hair wrestled in chopsticks.

Indigo eyes.

And that smile.

That smile had to be Aoi's. Aoi's smiles were cheerful, almost muddled. They were genuine.

Tanaka's were withered.

Aoi.

It had to be Aoi.

Suddenly, he felt happy.

He felt the need to be strong, to be genuine. He felt like he never had to give up. It was a torch in the darkness, in the muddled shadows of life. The silence lay in the air. Around him, the wind blew. The place was surrounded by withered trees. The trees swung, gray and old. Their dance was fake. Artificial.

Aoi.

Aoi.

Aoi's cheerfulness.

What did he want?

What was he going to do?

Suddenly, time was nothing.

Damn it.

He ran after Aoi.

"AOI! AOI! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII II! I want –" His feet dragged his weight, suddenly going all over in the speed he reserved for basketball and training with Tanaka.

Aoi's face creased. Indigo orbs froze to look at him.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMM MMMMMM! The train suddenly sped, separating them from each other.

Great.

Another blown off chance with Aoi.

When was he going to settle his score with Aoi?

* * *

"You're not acting like yourself."

"I am."

"Tch, Micchi!"

The hot spring was definitely not a bad thing to start with. In fact, it was one of the best hot springs in the region. Extra-hot flaming sauna, the hot springs had spaces for men, for women and unisex for those who were um, shameless. There was plenty of bamboo, space and food, and the Shohoku team enjoyed the ambience from the start.

Thank goodness the men's baths were pretty big – it could hold the whole team. A large and thick chunk of a wooden wall separated the men from the women.

"You're so tense," sniffed Miyagi.

"Yeah," offered Rukawa, who was placing a towel on top of his head.

"That's why we're here, right?"

"Yeah."

"I think it's probably about Tanaka," mused Miyagi, his hair wet from the water of the hot springs.

"Yeah," he admitted.

Great.

"Did you confess to her?" Sakuragi popped his question like a pimple. "Maybe she rejected him with a kick."

"Doesn't look like it. If she kicked him, it'd show. That's how strong she is."

Mitsui sighed.

"I DIDN'T CONFESS TO HER!"

"Then what?"

"Maybe he likes her more than the friend way."

"No. It's not like that."

"Then what is?" Akagi demanded, breaking the ice.

"I feel like I'm being unfaithful to someone else. There was someone I really liked. A lot. I never saw her as a girl. We were terribly platonic, I think. When I realized she loved me, I never got her back. I never saw her again."

"And you're torn between them?"

He sighed.

"I feel like I'm betraying her. But I don't know. I've kinda…gotten attached to Tanaka. She needs me. She's growing up and she's had a hard life, and she's not the easiest person to get along with."

"Do you love her?"

"Love?"

He scowled.

"I'm not so sure! I care about her. I want her happy. I want to see her smiling. I want to see her blooming, with someone she loves and loves her back. I want her safe. I like her a lot."

"Are you sure?"

He grit his teeth.

Aoi.

Was.

Fading.

Away.

Just a memory.

Another illusion.

"I feel like sometimes, the girl who liked me and Tanaka are the same."

"Maybe they are," Rukawa commented.

Sakuragi laughed.

"Honestly, Tanaka's cute," Kogure sighed. "I just wish you showed us the picture of the girl who liked you. Maybe from there, we can just draw the conclusions. That's easy enough, right?" He smiled.

"I think I have. In my wallet."

"Did Tanaka have a picture of her in your wallet?"

"She never gave me."

Wait.

He never had a picture of Tanaka.

Not at all.

* * *

"Tanaka-san, why are you quiet?"

In the baths, the girls were hardly clothed. Misaki was clad in her busty beauty. Her long golden hair was uncoiled around her chest, covering her dusky breasts. Her skin was pale with a golden tint to it that made her very beautiful and desirable.

Haruko was cute, and very modest, covering her B cups with what seemed like a towel. Her dark hair was medium-length, and flat but it had a nice glow to it. Hers was a beauty that every man adored, simple and cute and nice.

Misaki smiled to herself.

To drown in the gaze of three pretty girls in the nude was a luxury a fellow girl could afford in a sex-only onsen.

Ayako was pretty striking. Curvy, but at the same time, she had a manly sass about her. Her curls floated in the water, eyes moist. She was youthful, and at the same capable of maturity with her attractiveness.

But what Misaki lavished seeing in the nude was Tanaka.

Tanaka was pale all over. White. Her fair skin tone was rare – it was such a nice thing to look at. She was splayed on one rock, tragic and at the same time, endearing and attractive. Her arms and legs were long, pale, white. Pink and fair, her lips were full, her eyes the shape of almonds and indigo. It was the first time Misaki truly saw her in the nude.

Her shape was thin, but subtle curves. Muscles instead of fat clung to her bones. A lithe and athletic body from hours basking in training. Her breasts were not so big, but they were firm and clung to her effortlessly – A's. Her hips were strong but not wide – a virgin. Her hair fell across her back, so long it was a chestnut wing of locks. Her face was calm, and more relaxed.

"I just felt like relaxing. I mean, it's more than eating and drinking. I want to relax, to think about life. I want to sleep and snore, and peace."

"Geez. You sound like an old man," huffed Ayako, throwing a bucket of water in the girl's face.

"HEY!"

After what seemed like half an hour, Tanaka was laughing. Her features relaxed, and what came out of her mouth was an honest giggle.

_Toothless,_ Misaki thought, _you're destined for her. You made her smile._

* * *

He didn't mean to see Tanaka half-naked in the hallways. He was the first to leave, eager to eat, knowing Sakuragi would practically shove the food down his assed throat the minute he'd leave the hot spring; he had no idea Tanaka would be there. And she, too, wouldn't know that he was there, all in a towel.

Slipping out of the men's hot spring, he looked at the wooden hallways.

In front of him, under the bare moonlight, was a girl.

She wore a loose bathrobe and her hair shied from her, wrestled wildly in a chopstick. Her bathrobe was not the most modest one – it showed off a lot of leg. Water clung to the ground, from her. She was wet and trying to dry under the cool moonlight. What was worse, he saw white skin, soft and young – and some cleavage off her.

She was tightening the grip on her belt to adjust her bathrobe.

"Ta-"

She spun.

Her eyes.

Indigo.

Despite her cleavage which she had quickly covered with cloth courtesy of the bathrobe, she looked different.

She reminded him of the time he watched Memoirs of a Geisha and he had been fascinated by Hatsumomo.

Hatsumomo and her hair, her pale skin, her hair was fire, attracting innocents to its flames.

Her lashes.

Her skin, her eyes, her lips. She wasn't just cute.

She was actually very attractive.

"Mitsui-kun."

This, he registered mentally, was the first time she addressed him without using that nickname. Toothless.

He lowered his eyes.

"I'm sorry!"

"What's there to be sorry for?"

Her voice had changed.

"I saw you adjusting your belt and I spotted some of your clea-"

She shook her head.

What happened to her?

She wasn't a karateka right now. She was a wife of the night. A geisha.

"I ought to be the one apologizing. It's my fault. I didn't see you. I'll forgive you as of tonight." She closed her eyes and smiled.

Then she started to walk away.

He spun and grabbed her arm.

"Tanaka."

"Yes?"

"Can you give me a photo of yours?"

"Why –"

The men's onsen door slid, and Rukawa stepped out, dripping completely. He eyed the two of them with conviction.

"What are you doing with her?"

He let go of Tanaka's arm.

"Just a favor."

"What kind of favor?"

Tanaka scowled and hit Rukawa casually on the shoulder as if she was a boy herself.

"JEEZ! Just a friendly favor, nothing sexual, mind you. He wanted a picture of me."

Rukawa seemed to be relieved.

With a friendly wave, Tanaka grinned and glided down the hallway.

"Something's changed her tonight," Rukawa murmured, his eyes fixed on the hall that Tanaka had disappeared off to.

* * *

Foreshadowing? XD


End file.
